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A<^BNDERFi 

IN 

SOUTHERN    CALIFORNIA 

(DOWN    TO    DATE) 


BY 

MINA  DEANE  HALSEY 

AUTHOR  OF 

WHEN  EAST  COMES  WEST 

NEEDLES   AND  PINS 

WHISKERETTA 

ETC. 


NEW  YORK 
PRINTED  FOR  THE  AUTHOR 

By 

J.  J.  LITTLE  &  IVES  CO. 

1912 


COPYSIGHT,  IQOS,  BT 

M.  D.  HALSEY 

Copyright,  1909,  by 

MINA  DEANE  HALSEY 

CoPValGHT,  I9I3,  BY 

MINA   DEiVNE  HALSEY 
All  rithls  reserotd 


LIBRA  TIY 

.UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 

SANTA  BARBARA 


This  is  an  autograph  edition 
of  "  A  Tenderfoot  in  Southern 
California,"  the  number  of  this 
copy  being —-.1-1^. 


TO   GENE 


And  to  the  thousands  of  Angels  (without 
wings)  who  are  contentedly  floating  through 
life  out  in  God's  country,  and  to  the  thousands 
who  live  in  hopes  of  some  day  doing  likewise, 
I  dedicate  this  little  book. 


FOREWORD 

Much  has  been  written  about  California,  and 
Southern  California  in  particular,  as  the  native 
or  the  average  citizen  sees  it.  To  the  tourist, 
spending  the  winter  in  this  garden  spot,  many 
little  occurrences  happen  daily,  that  pass  un- 
noticed by  those  living  here,  and  to  this  end, 
this  small  volume  is  offered  in  memory  of  the 
many  joys  and  trials  combined,  experienced  by 
one  of  the  ever-present  tenderfeet. 

The  Author. 


CONTENTS 

A  Flea-Bitten  Tenderfoot  .     .     .     .  1 1 

Rooms  for  Rent 17 

When  it  Rains 25 

Auctions 31 

Pasadena 37 

How  TO  Spend  Your  Money  ....  47 

Bargain  Sales 57 

Mt.  Wilson  and  Pasadena    ....  65 

Through  Tourists'  Glasses  ....  75 

California  Yarns 79 

The  Whys  and  Wherefores      ...  85 

When  East  Comes  West 91 

Out  in  God's  Country 95 

Los  Angeles  Streets 107 

Mt.  Lowe 113 

Counting  My  Money — Mebbe!  .     .     .117 

Some  Things  I  Bought  in  Los  Angeles  125 

Just  Dreaming 131 

What  Keeps  the  Pot  A-Boiling     .     .141 

Catalina  Island 153 

Homesick 159 


A  FLEA-BITTEN  TEN- 
DERFOOT 


HEN  I  came  out 

to      California, 

Bill,    some    blamed    idiot   who 

knew  it  all,  advised  me  what  to 

bring. 

He  said — (and  I'll  bet  my  old  pair 
of  suspenders  he  never  saw  Californiii) 
says  he, 

"  Dont  take  any  winter  clothes  out 
there  with  you,  its  such  a  hot  coun- 
try you  wont  need  'em." 


A    TENDERFOOT 

Wall,  I  didnt,  and  by  gum,  I  like 
to  froze  to  death. 

All  I  had  in  that  blamed  trunk  of 
mine  was  some  peek-a-boo  underwear 
and  drop  stitched  stockings. 

I  wore  a  summer  suit  and  a  straw 
hat  out  on  the  train,  to  keep  cool,  and 
was  snow  bound  on  the  way  to  Los 
Angeles,  and  frost  bitten,  by  gum,  after 
I  got  here.  It  sure  was  a  cold  night 
when  we  pulled  in,  and  as  the  train  was 
four  or  five  hours  late,  I  footed  it  up 
town,  to  a  hotel. 

I  didnt  put  up  at  Mr.  Alexandria's 
or  the  Van  Noose,  as  I  heard  on  the 
train  they  charged  you  extra  to  blow 
your  nose,  if  you  stopped  there.  So 
I  found  a  room  on  Main  Street  (which 
is  nothing  to  be  proud  of)  and  the 
landlady  hollered  after  me,  as  I  went 


A   TENDERFOOT 

Up  the  stairs,  not  to  blow  out  the  gas. 

I  didnt. 

By  gum,  I  was  so  stiff  with  the  cold, 
I  kept  it  burning  all  night  to  melt  the 
icicles  I  knew  must  be  hanging  to  the 
end  of  my  nose.  There  was  only  one 
measley  pair  of  summer  blankets  on 
that  bed,  and  the  pillows  were  so  small, 
I  came  blamed  near  losing  'em  in  my 
ear  before  morning. 

I  went  to  bed  with  all  my  clothes 
on,  and  the  rest  of  the  night  I  laid 
there  and  shook  until  I  jarred  the  bed, 
and  some  fellar  who  had  a  room  under 
mine,  pounded  on  the  ceiling,  and  told 
me  to  make  less  noise  up  there. 

I  couldnt  help  it — the  slats  in  the 
old  bed  were  loose  and  rattled,  any 
way. 

If  ever  I  was  lonesome,  Bill,  and 
13 


A    TENDERFOOT 

wanted  to  go  home,  I  did  that  night. 

It  vvasnt  because  I  was  alone,  either 
— no,  not  that,  for  I'll  bet  I  held  up 
over  one  hundred  fleas  in  different  sec- 
tions of  that  bed  and  on  me,  before 
morning,  and  every  one  of  'em  was  as 
big  as  a  rat. 

Now  of  course  I  dont  really  mean 
to  say  that  they  were  that  big,  but  by 
gum,  they  looked  so  to  me  that  night. 
You  know  I  never  saw  a  real,  healthy, 
hustling  California  flea  before.  I 
could  see  their  eyes  shine  as  they 
looked  at  me,  and  I'll  swear  some  of 
'em  had  on  glasses  and  carried  lanterns 
so  they  could  find  me  easier. 

There  were  old  gray  beards  among 
'cm  that  had  voted  for  years,  and  I'll 
bet  hadnt  had  a  square  meal  since  the 
last  tenderfoot  slept  in  that  bed. 
14 


A    TENDERFOOT 

I  found  out  afterwards,  that  they 
dont  bite  the  natives — skins  are  too 
thick — but  a  real  tender,  juicy  down 
easter,  is  as  much  of  a  treat  to  'em, 
as  a  porterhouse  steak  is  in  a  bum 
boarding  house. 


IS 


ROOMS  FOR  RENT 

ON  EST  to  good- 
ness, Bill,  I  had 
no  more  idea  what 
I  was  going  up 
against,  when  I  started  out  hunt- 
ing rooms  in  Los  Angeles,  than  a 
good-natured  turkey  has  on  Thanks- 
giving Day,  when  she  sees  a  fellar  with 
a  smile  on  his  face,  and  a  hatchet  in 
his  hand,  sneak  up  behind  her. 

A  man  on  the  train  told  me  the  best 
way  to  do  was  to  rent  a  room  or  two, 
17 


A   TENDERFOOT 

and  take  my  meals  any  old  place.  I 
must  have  found  some  of  the  "  old  " 
places  first,  and  some  were  older  than 
others,  Bill.  This  fellar  said  there 
were  two  hundred  rooms  for  rent  in  the 
Westlake  district,  and  I  must  have  got 
around  to  i99><2  of  'em  before  I  felt 
that  I  had  had  my  money's  worth,  and 
took  his  word  for  the  few  I'd  missed. 
I  got  back  to  the  hotel  somehow,  but 
suffering  Kansas! — my  head  ached,  my 
knees  had  given  out  altogether,  and  my 
stomach  rolled  and  pitched  so  I 
couldn't  eat  anything  for  days. 

Of  all  the  sights,  and  the  sounds,  and 
the  smells.  Bill,  I  ever  had  thrown  at 
me,  shoved  down  my  throat,  plastered 
all  over  me,  in  the  sixty  odd  years  I've 
been  on  earth,  I  found  'em  that  first 
day,  hunting  rooms. 


A   TENDERFOOT 

There  were  sights  in  some  of  those 
rooming  houses  that  old  P.  T.  Barnum 
would  have  mortgaged  his  circus  to 
have  got  hold  of — there  were  sounds  in 
those  rooming  houses  that  any  first- 
class  crazy  house  would  have  been 
ashamed  of;  and  smells — well,  I  can't 
seem  to  find  the  right  words  to  make  it 
plain  as  I  wish  I  could,  Bill.  Anyway, 
my  stomach  didn't  get  settled  down 
and  feel  at  home  for  over  a  month,  and 
for  weeks  every  blamed  automobile 
that  passed  me,  that  had  a  smell  to  it, 
cost  me  the  price  of  a  bromo  seltzer.  I 
had  to  take  so  many  bromo  seltzers 
that  some  of  the  drug  clerks  reached 
for  the  bottle  whenever  they  saw  me 
coming  in  the  door,  and  one  fellar 
asked  me  if  I  didn't  want  to  buy  out 
half  the  business.  I  thought  I  knew 
19 


A   TENDERFOOT 

just  about  what  I  wanted  when  I 
started  out  hunting  for  rooms,  but, 
by  gum,  I  changed  my  mind  worse 
than  any  female  you  ever  heard  tell 
of. 

Why,  Bill,  you  don't  know  enough 
to  last  you  over  night,  after  you've  been 
through  half  a  dozen  of  those  rooming 
houses! 

Fact. 

I'll  bet  my  mouth  was  wide  open 
and  my  tongue  hanging  out  by  the  time 
I  got  to  the  last  place.  I  remember  I 
was  so  "  all  in  "  that  I  said  *'  yep  "  to 
everything  the  woman  told  me,  and 
handed  out  $5.00  deposit  on  a  room  I 
wouldn't  put  my  old  shoes  in,  just  to 
stop  her  talking  and  give  her  a  chance 
to  get  her  second  wind.  Why  she 
looked  like  she'd  bust  a  bloodvessel,  if 
20 


A   TENDERFOOT 

she  didn't  stop  talking  long  enough  to 
swallow. 

Bill,  you  never  even  heard  of  a 
"kitchenette,"  did  you? 

Well,  by  gum,  I've  seen  one — yes, 
sir,  had  to  live  to  be  65  years  old,  to 
know  what  a  "  kitchenette  "  was. 

No,  you're  wrong.  Bill — they  ain't 
anything  like  the  kids  get  in  their 
heads  at  school — nope — but  I  can 
swear  that  some  of  'em  was  alive,  for 
the  landlady  insisted  on  showing  me 
just  how  much  was  furnished  for  $25 
a  month,  and  some  things  must  have 
been  thrown  in  for  good  measure,  be- 
cause she  didn't  mention  anything 
extra  for  some  of  the  things  /  saw. 

Now,  Bill,  a  "  kitchenette  "  is  a  kind 
of  a  room  that  the  fellar  that  built  the 
house  forgot  to  put  in  until  after  the 
21 


A    TENDERFOOT 

house  was  finished,  and  then  woke  up 
and  saw  his  mistake.  So  he  finds  a 
closet,  that  ain't  big  enough  for  him  to 
shave  himself  in,  even  if  he  uses  a 
safety  razor,  and  he  starts  in  to  locate 
his  "  kitchenette." 

Why  they  give  the  thing  such  a  long, 
respectable  name,  and  then  saw  it  ofif 
at  both  ends,  and  take  a  tuck  in  the 
middle,  I  dunno. 

When  the  landlady  opened  the  door, 
I  only  got  one  foot  in,  but,  by  gum,  I 
had  to  back  out.  Bill — couldn't  turn 
around  for  fear  of  dislocating  the 
cook-stove. 

She  said  everything  was  so  handy  in 
a  "  kitchenette,"  because  you  could  put 
a  chair  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  and 
do  all  your  cooking  without  even  get- 
ting up. 


A   TENDERFOOT 

I  told  her,  if  there  had  been  a  re- 
volving  chair  in  the  "  kitchenette,"  I 
might  have  paid  a  deposit  to  hold  it, 
for  fear  some  other  blamed  fool  would 
get  it  away  from  me,  but  seeing  as 
she  had  neglected  so  important  a  mat- 
ter as  that,  I  didn't  dare  take  it,  for 
fear  I'd  get  tangled  up  in  the  furniture, 
and  some  morning  she'd  find  me  hung 
up  on  one  of  those  pot-hooks,  dead  as 
a  door  nail. 


^3 


WHEN  IT  RAINS 


HERE  are  three 
things  in  Califor- 
nia that  are  different  from  the 
same    three    things    any   where 
else  on  earth. 
They  are  sunshine,  moonshine,  and 
rain.     I  might  add  the  biggest  liars 
for    the    fourth,    but   that    is    another 
Story. 

I've  seen  it  rain  some  in  my  time, 
but  by  gum,  when   it  rains  in  Cali- 
25 


A    TENDERFOOT 

fornia,  its  got  all  the  rest  of  the  coun- 
try skinned  to  death.  Where  one  drop 
lights  on  you  in  a  back  east  rain-storm, 
a  bucketful  strikes  you  in  the  same 
spot,  out  here. 

It  rains  in  sheets,  in  blankets,  and 
in  comforters,  and  then  some.  Every 
drop  certainly  must  be  a  comforter, 
for  you  never  saw  people  so  tickled 
to  death  over  a  rain-storm  as  these 
Californians  are. 

Every  blamed  man,  woman  and 
child,  acts  like  they'd  struck  a  gold 
mine  in  their  own  back  yard. 

The  kids  dance  up  and  down  and 
cry,  "  Now  we  can  get  our  red 
wagons";  the  wife  will  smile  and 
say,  "  This  will  bring  the  automobile 
the  old  man  promised  me",  and  the 
old  man — if  he's  a   farmer,  he's  out 

36 


A   TENDERFOOT 

talking  it  over  with  his  nearest 
neighbor,  both  of  'em  soaking  wet, 
but  with  a  smile  that  wont  wash  off 
and  crying  out,  "  Bully,  bully,  keep  it 
up,  keep  it  up!  Its  raining  dollars, 
every  drop."  If  he's  a  store  keeper, 
he  is  smiling  and  nodding  to  every 
one  who  comes  into  the  store,  rubbing 
his  hands  together  all  the  while,  for  it 
means  "  Dollars  "  in  big  letters  to  each 
and  every  one  of  'em.  Thats  why  they 
are  so  happy. 

They  aint  out  here,  any  of  'em,  for 
their  health,  altho  many  a  one  has 
found  it. 

Health  is  laying  around  loose  any- 
where in  Southern  California.  Its 
here  in  chunks,  and  if  you've  got  life 
enough  in  you  to  draw  a  long  breath, 
you  wont  have  to  draw  very  many,  be- 
27 


A   TENDERFOOT 

fore  you  begin  to  realize,  they  taste 
different,  and  make  you  feel  like  a  kid 
back  in  school  days  when  you  played 
hookey  and  went  fishing. 

California  air  kinder  gets  you  all 
over.  Your  musty  old  lungs  aint  had 
such  a  treat  in  all  their  life  before,  and 
they  are  already  beginning  to  open  up 
and  grow  larger,  same  as  everything 
else  does  in  California. 

And  when  after  one  of  these  glori- 
ous rains,  the  sun  comes  out — I  mean 
the  real  California  sunshine,  not  a 
blinking,  watery-eyed  sun,  peeking 
around  the  corner  of  a  cloud,  and  then 
dodging  back  for  fear  some  one  saw 
it — (the  back  home  kind) — no  sir-ree, 
I  mean  the  real  thing  that  just  beams 
on  you,  and  throws  a  shine  over  every- 
thing until  your  eyes  hurt,  and  you 
28 


A   TENDERFOOT 

wonder  if  it  aint  made  of  dififerent 
stuff  than  the  kind  you  left  back  east 
in  Illinois. 

It  makes  the  trees  come  back  to  life 
and  grow  young  again,  the  flowers 
open  up  in  brighter  colors  than  before, 
and  the  hills  are  carpeted  with  green 
velvet,  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach. 

And  a  funny  feeling  comes  creeping 
over  you — they've  all  got  it  out  here — 
but  for  the  life  of  me,  I  cant  describe 
it  to  you.  You'll  have  to  come  out  and 
feel  it  for  yourself,  Bill. 


29 


AUCTIONS 


MUST     say     I 

never  saw  such  a 
town  for  having  auctions  as  Los 
Angeles. 

For  a  fact,  I  counted  nine- 
teen auctions  one  night  on  the  two  main 
streets  inside  of  eight  blocks. 

Most  of  'em  were  Japs  selling  out, 

going    home,    they    said,    but    inside 

of  a  week,   these  same  fellows  were 

having   an   "  Opening "   giving  away 

31 


A    TENDERFOOT 

presents,  further  up  town  in  another 
block. 

They  aint  the  only  heathens  selling 
out  in  that  town,  either. 

One  night  when  I  was  bumming 
around  town  I  just  naturally  strolled 
into  a  jewelry  auction. 

That  auctioneer  was  sure  a  dandy. 
He  sold  those  suckers — men  suckers 
I  mean — solid  gold  watches  for  $1.95 
guaranteed. 

There  were  plenty  of  women  suck- 
ers there;  yep,  bunches  of  'em,  and 
they  bit  harder  than  any  man  in  the 
crowd. 

They  bid  as  high  as  five  cents  at  a 
jump,  and  bid  right  over  their  own 
bids,  until  the  auctioneer  tickled  so 
hard,  he  had  to  blow  his  nose  to  hide 
the  laugh. 


A   TENDERFOOT 

His  face  was  as  red  as  a  beet,  and  he 
nearly  busted  holding  in,  while  he  kept 
on  saying, 

"  Lady,  dont  let  it  get  away  from 
you  for  only  half  a  dime.  If  you  cant 
use  it  for  a  cake  spoon,  you  can  use  it 
to  spank  the  baby  with." 

Then  some  reckless  woman  would 
risk  five  cents  more,  and  get  it. 

Mebbe  when  she  counted  out  her 
change,  it  was  all  in  nickles  and  dimes, 
and  the  old  pocketbook  was  busted  at 
both  ends  and  mighty  flat  in  the  mid- 
dle, but  she  held  her  head  high  as  she 
sailed  out  of  the  store,  with  a  silver 
plated  baby  spanker,  and  ten  chances 
to  one,  she  was  an  old  maid,  with  no 
immediate  prospects. 

But  there  were  others  in  that  crowd 
— not  old  maids,  but  suckers.    Yep,  he 

33 


A   TENDERFOOT 

hooked  me,  all  right,  and  before  I 
knew  it,  I  had  paid  $1.75  for  a  genuine 
diamond  scarf  pin  as  big  as  a  marble 
and  just  about  as  brilliant. 

I  met  Jones  as  I  came  out  of  the  auc- 
tion, and  as  he  had  been  lingering  in 
Jim  Jeffries  Saloon  (all  in  big  electric 
lighted  letters)  I  could  plainly  see  that 
a  few  more  smiles  on  his  part,  would 
make  that  diamond  scarfpin  I  had  just 
bought,  look  like  Jeffries  sign  on  a 
foggy  night. 

Yep,  they  have  fog  in  Los  Angeles. 

The  Angels  will  tell  you  its  "  Un- 
usual," but  by  gum,  it  fogs  so  hard 
here  sometimes,  that  you  have  to  fol- 
low the  car  tracks  to  find  your  way 
home. 

I  had  to  pay  for  several  glasses  of 
"  Oh-be-joyful,"  before  I  could  con- 
34 


A   TENDERFOOT 

vince  Jones  that  he  needed  that  dia- 
mond scarf-pin  the  worst  way,  and  I 
obliged  him  by  taking  in  exchange,  a 
sore-eyed  bull  pup,  he'd  bought  on  a 
street  corner  that  afternoon,  that  was 
two-thirds  fox  terrier  and  the  other 
part  mule. 


35 


PASADENA 


N    Pasadena, 
meaning  "Crown 
^    of    the    Valley,"    they   have    a 
street     called    Orange     Grove 
^.  Avenue. 
I  dont  know  why. 

I  didnt  see  any  orange  groves  when 
I  drove  through  there. 

The  avenue  is  also  called  "  Million- 
aires Row,"  and  "  A  Mile  of  Million- 
aires," for  there  are  more  millionaires 

Z7 


A    TENDERFOOT 

on  that  avenue,  than  any  other  street 
of  its  length  in  the  country. 

The  houses  are  certainly  mighty  fine 
— the  fat  pocketbook  of  the  owners  giv- 
ing free  rein  to  the  builders  of  the 
castles,  and  the  glorious  sunshine  of 
Southern  California,  doing  the  rest,  in 
the  way  of  flowers  and  beautiful  lawns. 

Yep,  I  paid  a  dollar  a  head  for  one 
of  those  two  horse  rigs  that  stand  four 
deep  at  every  street  corner  and  nail  a 
tourist  the  minute  he  steps  off  the 
street  car.  You  know,  Californians 
seem  to  know  us,  I  dont  know  why — 
mebbe  we  look  easy,  or  again  mebbe 
its  the  cut  of  our  trousers — still,  they 
spot  a  woman  tourist  just  as  easy,  so 
of  course  that  cant  be  the  reason,  be- 
cause— well,  any  way,  they  catch  a  ten- 
derfoot with,  "  Carriage  to  all  the  in- 
38 


A   TENDERFOOT 

teresting  parts  of  the  City,  sir,"  and  its 
dollars  to  peanuts,  some  female  in  the 
crowd  will  roll  her  eyes  at  you  and 
say,  "  Oh,  what  a  lovely  day  for  a 
drive,"  and  its  all  off. 

So  you  dump  your  overcoat,  and 
your  kodak  and  your  lunch  basket  and 
your  umbrella,  and  a  bunch  of  wilted 
poppies,  you've  been  carting  around 
for  two  solid  hours  (to  please  some  fool 
woman  who  "  just  couldnt  resist  gath- 
ering the  beautiful  things  ")  you  dump 
all  of  these  into  the  nearest  rig  and 
also  four  or  five  hard  earned  dollars 
into  the  driver's  pocket,  and  set  back 
and  make  a  bluff  at  enjoying  yourself. 

Speaking  of  California  poppies.  Of 
course,  as  I  say,  after  you've  carted 
a  wilted  bunch  around  for  a  few  hours, 
you  aint  much  stuck  on  'em,  but  with- 

39 


A   TENDERFOOT 

out  a  doubt,  they  are  the  finest  wild- 
flower,  the  sun  ever  blossomed  out. 

In  color  and  shape  they  look  like 
our  eastern  buttercup,  only  their  color 
is  a  brighter  orange,  and  one  flower  is 
as  big  as  twenty  of  'em  put  together. 

And  say.  Bill,  when  you  look  ahead 
of  you,  up  on  the  side  of  a  little  slop- 
ing hill,  at  the  foot  of  the  mountains, 
and  see  a  solid  carpet  of  these  flowers 
as  big  as  a  city  block,  and  bigger — it 
kinder  makes  you  draw  a  long  breath, 
and  feel  funny  inside. 

You  know  the  feeling  you  get  when 
some  one  flings  the  old  "  Stars  and 
Stripes  "  out  in  a  good  stifY  breeze — 
you  know  Bill,  something  kinder  like 
geese  pimples  go  scooting  up  your 
backbone  and  end  in  the  roots  of  your 
hair — well,  thats  the  same  feeling  that 
40 


A   TENDERFOOT 

nabs  you  when  you  get  your  first  sight 
of  a  California  poppy  field.  Like  a 
hungry  kid  in  a  pie  factory,  your  eyes 
get  bigger  and  bigger  as  you  drop 
down  in  a  field  of  these  golden  blos- 
soms, and  pick  and  pick  and  keep  on 
picking,  hurrying  as  fast  as  you  can, 
for  fear  the  other  fellar  will  get  a  big- 
ger bunch  than  you  do.  There  aint 
no  strings  on  'em — you're  welcome  to 
pick  all  you  can  carry  away. 

This  last  dont  apply  to  the  golden 
beauties  on  trees — California  oranges. 
To  these  you  are  not  welcome,  not  even 
if  it  would  give  you  the  pleasure  of 
saying  "  you  picked  them  off  the  trees 
yourself,"  which  means  a  whole  lot  to 
an  easterner,  who  only  sees  oranges 
wrapped  up  in  tissue  paper,  for  sale 
back  home. 

41 


A   TENDERFOOT 

You  know,  its  a  surprise  to  me  that 
these  Californians  who  are  eternally 
hooping  up  the  glorious  climate,  on 
paper  and  otherwise,  and  spending  a 
whole  lot  of  money  shipping  East 
printed  folders  by  the  carload,  to  get 
the  California  Bee,  buzzing  in  your 
head,  until  you'd  almost  give  the  farm 
away  to  get  rid  of  it — you  want  to  go 
to  California  so  bad — you  know,  its  a 
wonder  to  me  that  some  of  the  fellars 
that  have  the  most  say  so  in  the  Angel 
City,  dont  buy  an  orange  grove  at  some 
bargain  sale  price,  and  allow  all  tour- 
ists holding  return  tickets  East,  the 
privilege  of  going  into  a  real  orange 
grove  and  picking,  say,  half  a  dozen 
oranges,  all  by  themselves. 

That  would  be  the  biggest  advertise- 
ment Los  Angeles  ever  dreamed  of,  and 
42 


A   TENDERFOOT 

it  would  beat  reading  over  a  lot  of 
some  other  fellars  ideas,  all  to  holler. 

New  Years  day  I  went  over  to  Pasa- 
dena to  the  Tournament  of  Roses. 
This  is  a  "  doings "  held  in  the  Crown 
City  every  year,  and  the  natives  and 
tourists  for  miles  around  come  to  ad- 
mire the  show.  Just  why  it  is  called 
the  Tournament  of  Roses,  I  dont  know. 
To  be  sure,  there  are  some  roses,  more 
carnations,  and  mostly  geraniums.  But 
right  here  let  me  say  that  the  gerani- 
ums in  California,  are  the  finest  flow- 
ers you  ever  set  eyes  on.  By  gum,  they 
are  prettier  than  half  the  roses  back 
home,  for  the  bunches  of  blossoms  on 
each  stalk  are  as  big  as  my  two  fists, 
and  the  color  of  'em  is  away  beyond 
anything  I  can  describe  to  you. 

A  hedge   of   these   scarlet  beauties 

43 


A   TENDERFOOT 

beat  a  hedge  of  bum  roses  any  time  and 
any  where,  even  back  home  in  Illi- 
nois. 

Them's  my  sentiments,  only  dont  let 
the  editor  of  the  home  paper  get  hold 
of  it,  Bill. 

I  owe  him  a  little  money  and  I  dont 
want  to  get  him  riled  up. 

The  floats  were  all  right,  and  some 
pretty  girls,  a  few,  were  mixed  in 
among  the  flowers,  but  Los  Angeles 
flowers  and  Los  Angeles  girls  knock 
'em  all  to  holler. 

The  Tournament  or  the  flowers  or 
the  girls  aint  a  smell  side  of  the  Fiesta 
the  Angel  City  hands  out  to  visitors 
each  year  in  May.  It's  the  prettiest 
thing  you  could  ever  dream  about, 
Bill,  and  that  aint  no  printed  folder 
talk  either. 

44 


A   TENDERFOOT 

I've  seen  two  of  'em  and  hope  to  see 
a  good  many  more  before  I  die.  In 
some  few  ways  Pasadena  is  ahead  of 
Los  Angeles.  Its  the  only  spot  in  the 
country  whose  citizens,  as  a  whole, 
think  there  is  no  place  like  it.  A  while 
back  they  had  a  revival  meeting  in 
town. 

There  was  a  good  sized  audience 
and  after  they  had  all  got  pretty  well 
worked  up,  the  preacher  shouted, 
"  Now  all  you  folks  that  want  to  go 
to  Heaven,  stand  up." 

All  jumped  to  their  feet,  except  one 
little  fellar,  who  stuck  his  hands  in  his 
pockets,  and  kept  his  seat. 

The  preacher  looked  at  him  mighty 
hard  and  called  out, 

"  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  you  dont 
want  to  go  to  Heaven?  " 

45 


A   TENDERFOOT 

"  Nope,"  he  answered,  "  Pasadena 
is  good  enough  for  me." 

And  that  is  about  the  way  they  all 
feel  that  live  here — good  enough  for 
them. 

I  heard  one  of  'em  say  once  he'd 
rather  be  a  California  jackrabbit,  than 
a  New  York  millionaire. 


46 


HOW  TO  SPEND  YOUR 
MONEY 


OU  know,  Bill, 
when  a  tender- 
foot lands  in  Los 
Angeles,  it  comes 
just  as  natural  for  every  one  of 
'em  to  do  the  same  thing  the  fel- 
lar  did  before  him,  as  it  does  for  a  six 
months'  old  baby  to  stick  everything 
into  his  mouth  he  can  lay  his  hands 
on. 

Yep,  there  are  a  lot  of  things  in  the 
way  of  "  indoocements "  in  Los  Ange- 

47 


A    TENDERFOOT 

Ics  that  ril  bet  ain't  been  missed  by  a 
"  show-me  "  since  the  town  put  on  its 
first  suspenders. 

There's  Mt.  Lowe,  for  instance,  a 
most  wonderful  trip,  that  every  tourist 
who  has  the  price  just  about  breaks  his 
neck  to  take,  and  when  he  looks  up  the 
incline  and  sees  what  a  blamed  good 
chance  he's  got  of  breaking  it,  he'd 
back  out  and  go  home,  if  he  wasn't 
afraid  some  fool  woman  would  laugh 
at  him. 

Then  there's  Chinatown,  a  collection 
of  smells  you  would  never  believe 
could  be  gathered  together  under  the 
blue  canopy  of  Heaven.  Why,  after 
leaving  the  rose  gardens  on  the  other 
side  of  town,  and  dropping  into  this 
nest  of  pigtails,  it's  like  finding  a 
dilapidated  piece  of  limburgcr  cheese 
48 


A   TENDERFOOT 

'way  down  in  the  middle  of  marshmel- 
low  sundae. 

Marshmellow  sundae?  Nope,  ain't 
nothing  to  do  with  a  Methodist  prayer 
meeting,  Bill;  you'll  have  to  guess 
again. 

They  grow  'em  out  here;  not  Meth- 
odist prayer  meetings,  but  marshmel- 
low sundaes.  Yep,  they  grow  'em  on 
sodywater  trees,  great,  big,  juicy  ones, 
with  a  cherry  on  top.  But  back  to 
Chinatown,  with  its  pigtails  and  punk! 
Why,  Bill,  I  smelt  of  punk  for  a  week 
after  I  went  on  that  trip  through 
Chinatown. 

What's  punk? 

Why,  punk  is — er — punk  is,  well, 
darn  it,  it's  just  punk,  that's  all.  Don't 
ask  so  many  fool  questions,  Bill. 

It    ain't   a   bunch    of    honeysuckle, 

49 


A    TENDERFOOT 

b'gosh,  I  can  tell  you  that  much.  Go 
out  in  the  back  yard  and  burn  up  a  pair 
of  old  rubber  boots — then  shut  your 
eyes  and  smell!  Just  as  good  as  a  trip 
through  Chinatown,  and  a  whole  lot 
cheaper. 

Here's  a  Chinese  poem,  Bill — hon- 
est— and  by  the  looks  of  it,  I  should 
say  the  "  chink  "  that  wrote  it  was  a 
bum  writer. 

Yep,  I  know  it  looks  like  turkey 
tracks  in  the  snow  back  home,  but  it's 
the  real  genuine  article  just  the  same. 
Think  of  a  fellar  writing  a  love  letter 
to  his  best  girl  and  handing  out  a  thing 
like  that.  Bill!  Why,  I  can  smell  punk 
just  looking  at  it.  Fact;  that  poem  is 
chuck  full  of  punk  to  any  one  that  ever 
got  a  whiff  of  it. 

I  can't  read  the  blamed  thing  for 
so 


''J  r^vtx 


III 


g 


'J 


7^A 


A    TENDERFOOT 

you.  Bill,  but,  by  gum,  I  believe  I  can 
dance  it. 

Then  there's  the  Chutes — no  shoot- 
ing the  day  I  was  there — place  looked 
like  Garvanza  on  a  busy  day — game 
law  must  have  been  on.  I  bought  out 
the  peanut  stand  and  filled  up  the  ani- 
mals, drank  a  couple  of  glasses  of  beer 
hoping  I'd  "  see  things,"  but  nothing 
showed  up,  so  I  decided  to  wait  until 
next  Fourth  of  July  and  go  out  again. 
They  say  they  have  to  hang  the  "  stand- 
ing room  only  "  sign  out  on  holidays, 
and  I'd  rather  hang  onto  a  strap  in  a 
crowd  any  time  than  to  have  the  whole 
car  to  myself,  Bill. 

Then    there's    Santa    Monica    and 

Ocean     Park — no     prettier    spots    on 

earth.     Born  and  brought  up  together, 

used  the  same  soap,  and  wiped  their 

3« 


A    TENDERFOOT 

face  on  the  same  towel,  but  they  ain't 
no  relation,  no  sir-ree;  they  don't  love 
each  other  worth  a  bean. 

Then  comes  Venice — next  door 
neighbor  to  Ocean  Park;  so  close  to- 
gether they  could  have  their  arms 
around  each  other  if  they'd  a  mind  to; 
but  nope,  they've  both  got  a  chip  on 
their  shoulders  waiting  for  some  one  to 
bump  into  'em. 

But  never  mind.  The  old  fellar 
that  figured  out  how  he  could  trans- 
form that  cast-off  land  of  bogs  and 
slime  into  the  beautiful  little  "  dago  " 
city  he  has,  is  worth  taking  your  hat 
off  to.  Bill.  They  say  he  had  an  up- 
hill fight  from  start  to  finish,  and  he 
ain't  finished  yet.  Some  few  people 
down  there  thought  they  saw  his  finish, 
but  he  fooled  'em. 

53 


A    TENDERFOOT 

A  man  that  will  go  through  what  he 
has  "  for  his  country  "  and  still  be  able 
to  smile  is  made  of  the  kind  of  stuff 
that  will  wash  without  fading. 

Then  there's  Catalina  Island;  that's 
another  sure  thing  in  the  way  of  sights 
that  every  tourist  takes  in.  That  trip 
will  flatten  out  your  pocket-book  and 
likewise  your  stomach,  and  do  more 
fancy  work  to  your  liver  in  about  three 
shakes  of  a  lamb's  tail  than  a  healthy 
windmill  inside  of  your  diaphragm 
could  figure  out  in  a  month  and  a  half. 

The  water  between  here  and  Cata- 
lina has  been  up  and  a-coming  since 
Time  began,  and  if  it  ain't  the  meanest, 
dog-gorndest  piece  of  water  that  ever 
picked  a  fight  with  a  man,  then  your 
Uncle  Eben  don't  know  how  old  he  is. 
It  does  beat  the  Dutch,  Bill,  how  a  fel- 

54 


A    TENDERFOOT 

lar  will  blow  in  good  hard-earned  cash, 
just  to  find  out  how  it  feels  to  wish  he 
was  dead. 

Another  beach  is  called  Playa  Del 
Rey;  in  plain  U.  S.  everyday  talk  is 
just  King  of  Beaches.  I  don't  know 
whether  its  French  or  Dago,  Bill,  or 
whether  the  fellar  that  named  it  was 
just  trying  to  see  what  he  could  do  if 
they  gave  him  long  enough  rope. 

Anyway,  I  got  a  fish  dinner  down 
there  that  I'll  remember  as  long  as  I 
live.    Yes  sir-ree. 

Got  a  bone  in  my  throat — that's  rea- 
son enough,  ain't  it?  Good  dinner — 
fine — but  I  lost  money  on  it,  b'gosh, 
for  that  blamed  fish  bone  went  down 
with  the  first  mouthful.  I  tried  to  get 
'cm  to  give  me  my  money  back,  but 
there  was  nothing  doing.  They 
55 


A    TENDERFOOT 

claimed  I'd  spoilt  the  shape  of  the  fish, 
and  they  couldn't  sell  it  to  anybody 
else. 

I  told  'em  to  go  ahead  and  make  fish 
chowder  out  of  it — I'd  give  'em  back 
the  bone  just  as  soon  as  I  could  find  it, 
but  they  was  so  blamed  pig-headed 
about  it,  they  said  they  couldn't  see 
it  that  way. 

I  told  'em  I  had  given  'em  a  mighty 
good  idea,  and  I'd  bet  a  barrel  of  hard 
cider  the  next  fellar  that  ordered  fish 
chowder  down  there  would  "  see  it  that 
way." 

Gosh,  Bill,  I'm  glad  I  didn't  order 
a  fried  egg,  can't  tell,  might  have  got 
a  wishbone  in  my  throatl 


56 


BARGAIN  SALES 


OS  ANGELES 

is  the  greatest 
town  for  bargain  sales.  One 
store  or  another,  has  'em  every 
day  out  here. 
I  got  into  the  middle  of  a  stocking 
sale  once,  and  when  I  got  out,  and  took 
account  of  stock,  I  didnt  have  all  the 
clothes  on  I  started  in  with,  but  I  had 
two  pairs  of  women's  polka  dotted 
stockings  wound  around  my  neck,  and 
another  pair  in  my  pocket. 

57 


A   TENDERFOOT 

Its  a  wonder  I  wasnt  arrested  for 
shop-lifting. 

I  never  saw  such  actions  in  all  my 
life,  Bill.  Women,  big  and  little, 
grabbed  and  pulled  and  hauled,  and 
grunted  and  groaned,  and  seesawed 
back  and  forth,  each  one  trying  to 
spend  some  poor  devil-of-a-husband's 
hard  earned  dollars,  while  he  was  rac- 
ing around  town  trying  to  "  do  "  some 
other  poor  devil,  to  make  both  ends 
meet.  Mebbe  the  hat  he  wore  was  last 
years  and  his  shoes  were  out  at  the 
sides,  and  run  down  at  the  heels,  but 
his  wife  was  a  close  buyer  and  would, 
no  doubt,  bring  him  home  a  pair  of 
light  green  socks,  embroidered  in  yel- 
low polka  dots. 

In  the  scramble,  one  woman  got 
hold  of  a  single  stocking,  and  another 
58 


A    TENDERFOOT 

woman  side  of  her,  got  hold  of  the 
mate  to  it,  and  a  few  jerks  pulled  them 
apart. 

And  do  you  think  either  woman 
would  give  up  her  stocking? 

Not  much! 

The  clerk  called  the  floor  walker 
and  he  called  the  manager,  but  there 
was  nothing  doing.  One  of  'em  said 
"  she  wouldnt  let  that  piefaced  female 
have  that  stocking  if  they  called  the 
police." 

So  they  each  paid  for  one  stocking 
and  kept  it. 

One  woman  bought  seventeen  pairs. 

"  A  woman  cant  have  too  many  pairs 
of  stockings,"  I  heard  her  say.  "  This 
nasty  yellow  pair,  I'll  save  until  next 
Christmas  and  give  'em  to  Mrs. 
Brown,  to  pay  her  for  that  old  ten  cent 


A   TENDERFOOT 

handkerchief  she  sent  me  last  Christ- 
mas." 

Think  of  it,  Bill — seventeen  pairs  of 
stockings  these  hard  times — Tm  glad 
I  aint  married,  b'gosh. 

The  Angel  City  has  plenty  of  mighty 
fine  stores,  barring  a  few  whose  bar- 
gain sales  (in  big  red  letters)  are  car- 
ried on  midway  a  dinky  little  entrance 
door,  where  customers  have  to  crowd 
and  push  their  way  through  a  bunch 
of  half  baked  females  buying  real  lace 
at  2  cents  a  yard. 

For  a  solid  half  hour,  these  women 
will  stand,  first  on  one  foot  and  then 
on  the  other,  hanging  onto  their  bar- 
gain like  a  bull  pup  to  an  unwelcome 
pair  of  pants,  waiting  for  a  not  over 
bright,  gum  chewing  girl,  who  is 
frantically  trying  to  add  up  nine  times 
60 


A   TENDERFOOT 

two,  while  she  chews  off  the  end  of 
her  lead  pencil,  and  lifts  her  rat  up  an 
inch  or  two  higher  at  the  same  time. 

Oh,  I  tell  you  Bill,  its  all  very  well 
to  make  fun  of  women  going  to  bar- 
gain sales.  If  they  do  get  a  bargain, 
by  gum,  they  earn  it. 

Just  one  genuine  bargain  sale  would 
lay  out  any  strong  man  in  about  thirty 
seconds,  and  yet  a  frail  and  delicate 
woman,  who  cant  possibly  do  her 
own  housework,  will  get  up  before 
daylight  so  she  can  be  down  to  the 
stores  before  the  doors  open,  and  for 
two  mortal  hours,  she'll  push  and 
shove  and  squirm  her  way  through  a 
barricade  of  bargain  crazy  females, 
the  sight  of  which  would  turn  back  a 
crowd  of  husky  football  players  any 
day. 

6i 


A    TENDERFOOT 

Packed  in  like  sardines,  around  a 
2x4  table,  grandmothers  and  grand- 
children, wedged  in  three  and  four 
deep,  are  panting  and  struggling,  as 
they  blindly  push  an  arm  through  a 
small  opening  and  grab  hold  of  any- 
thing they  can  reach  on  the  table. 

Whatever  they  grab,  they  hold  onto, 
for  fear  they  wont  get  hold  of  any- 
thing else. 

And  when  they  get  it  home,  and 
come  to  their  senses,  they  wonder  what 
in  thunder  they  bought  it  for,  anyway. 
The  poor  over  worked  husband  uses  a 
stronger  word  than  "  thunder,"  but  her 
word  means  just  as  much  to  her.  Bill, 
and  its  more  ladylike. 

And  for  a  free  sample  of  *'  Near 
Food  "  she  will  charge  to  the  front  of 
an  army  of  wild-eyed  females,  who 
62 


A    TENDERFOOT 

like  herself  cant  see  a  sign  with  the 
word  "  Free  "  on  it  without  stopping. 

You  never  saw  a  woman  get  three 
feet  beyond  a  "  Free  "  sign,  Bill,  with- 
out turning  around  and  going  back,  to 
ask,  "What  is?" 

No-sir-rcc. 

Its  just  as  impossible  for  her  to  do 
it,  as  it  is  for  her  to  rub  her  eye,  with- 
out opening  her  mouth  at  the  same 
time. 

They  have  to  do  it. 

I  got  tangled  up  in  a  bunch  of  "  free 
sample  "  females  one  day,  and  after  the 
floor  walker  had  dragged  me  out  and 
unhitched  my  necktie  from  my  left 
ear,  he  told  me  to  go  round  to  the  side 
door  and  he'd  give  me  a  square  meal. 
I  had  lost  two  teeth  in  the  mix  up  but 
a  "  Didnt  hurt  a  bit,"  dentist,  whose 


A   TENDERFOOT 

smiling  face  I'd  know  if  I  met  it  in  a 
custard  pie,  in  a  *'  come-back  "  restau- 
rant— dug  out  the  roots  for  me,  and 
didnt  hurt  a  bit — mebbe! 

Once  when  I  felt  he  had  gone  down 
about  three  feet,  and  was  still  going, 
I  asked  him  if  he  thought  he  was  bor- 
ing for  oil,  or  just  digging  post  holes. 

That  fellar  ought  to  strike  oil  some 
day,  for  he  certainly  wasnt  afraid  of 
work. 

I'll  bet.  Bill,  if  he  ever  finds  a  fel- 
lar with  a  big  enough  mouth,  he'll  get 
into  it  with  a  pick  and  shovel  and  lo- 
cate some  mining  claims  before  he 
quits. 


64 


MT.  WILSON  AND 
PASADENA 

1  HE  trip  up  Mt. 
Wilson  makes 
me  heave  a  good 
many  sighs  to 
write  about,  Bill.  In  fact,  I 
heaved  so  many  sighs  for  a  couple 
of  weeks  after  that  trip,  that  I  had 
mighty  hard  work  making  anyone  be- 
lieve I  had  a  good  time.  But  I  did. 
It  was  worth  heaving  sighs  for  a  month 
to  take  that  trip — you  can't  just  exactly 
see  it  that  way,  while  you  are  on  the 
6>; 


A    TENDERFOOT 

trail,  but  afterwards — afterwards,  Bill, 
w^hen  the  sore  spots  have  all  quit  their 
talking — when  your  liver  has  quit  gal- 
livanting around  inside  of  you,  and 
your  floating  kidney  has  been  lassoed 
and  trotted  back  into  place — then,  Bill, 
you  begin  to  remember  the  beauties 
you  saw  with  only  one  eye,  while  you 
kept  the  other  one  glued  on  the  blamed 
jackass  that  was  trying  his  best  to  give 
you  all  the  extras  he  could  think  of 
for  your  money. 

It  takes  four — five — six  or  seven 
hours  to  get  up  the  trail,  according  to 
your  mule,  and  it  only  took  me  some- 
where around  forty  minutes  to  come 
down.  Of  course,  most  people  don't 
hurry  so  on  the  down  trip,  but 
you  know  some  things  are  forced 
upon  us  in  this  world,  and  that  jack- 
66 


A   TENDERFOOT 

ass  of  mine  certainly  knew  his  busi- 
ness. 

I  don't  know  how  to  swear  much, 
but  there  are  times  when  cuss-words 
come  kinder  natural  to  a  man,  and  I 
sure  did  surprise  myself.   Bill. 

There  were  some  wonderful  sights 
all  along  the  way,  and  the  glories  of  a 
Mt.  Wilson  sunset,  Bill,  can't  be  de- 
scribed with  a  stub  pen  that  scratches 
like  this  one  does. 

Nope — I'd  have  to  be  a  school 
marm,  and  know  the  dictionary  by 
heart,  to  find  the  kind  of  words  to  do  it 
half  justice,  and  then,  your  education 
has  been  so  neglected.  Bill,  you 
wouldn't  know  what  I  was  driving  at. 

They  told  me  that  a  sunrise  beat  a 
sunset  all  to  smithereens,  but  I  didn't 
see  a  single  sunrise  while  I  was  up 
67 


A    TENDERFOOT 

there,  for  about  the  time  the  sun  was 
climbing  over  the  peaks  1  was  getting 
in  my  heaviest  work  and,  next  to  eating 
custard  pie,  I'd  rather  sleep  than  do 
anything  on  earth. 

Yep — I  hope  if  I'm  ever  drowned, 
Bill,  I'll  be  drowned  in  custard  pie,  the 
real  deep  kind,  like  mother  used  to 
make. 

Mt.  Wilson  is  the  nearest  station  to 
Heaven  yours  truly  ever  expects  to  get. 
It's  six  thousand  feet  nearer  Heaven 
than  Pasadena  is,  but  you  can't  make 
Pasadena  people  see  it  that  way,  even 
if  you  measure  it  for  'em.  No  sir,  they 
ain't  got  no  time  to  argue  with  any 
fellar  with  a  tape  line.  Pasadena  is 
the  real  thing,  and  you  might  just  as 
well  let  every  blamed  one  of  'em  have 
the  last  word  about  it,  for  they've  all 

68 


A    TENDERFOOT 

got  their  fingers  crossed,  and  had  'em 
crossed  so  long,  by  gum,  they've  grown 
that  way. 

One  day  last  summer,  when  the  ther- 
mometer had  stood  just  about  all  it  in- 
tended to  take,  and  had  "  rizz  "  up  and 
sizzled  over  the  top  like  foam  on  a 
glass  of  soda,  I  stood  for  two  solid, 
never-to-be-forgotten  hours  in  the 
shade  of  a  spreading  telephone  pole 
with  my  fingers  crossed,  legs  crossed, 
and,  in  fact,  so  cross  inside  and  out, 
Bill,  I  didn't  get  the  kinks  out  of  me 
for  days.  I  was  side  tracked,  waiting 
for  a  street-car  that  the  conductor  told 
me  was  liable  to  be  along  almost  any 
minute,  now, — mebbe! 

Well,  the  first  car  that  hove  in  sight 
was  loaded  to  the  muzzle,  and  it  didn't 
even  hesitate. 

69 


A    TENDERFOOT 

The  second  kicked  up  such  a  Kansas 
cyclone  before  it  got  to  me,  that  not  a 
blamed  soul  on  board  knew  I  was 
there. 

Bill,  you  know  that  playful  little 
breeze  that  carried  ofif  the  pigsty  last 
summer  back  home,  and  scattered  our 
pork  all  over  the  neighborhood — you 
remember  it? 

Well,  the  rumpus  that  street  car 
stirred  up  on  its  way  down  hill  had 
that  cyclone  fricasseed  with  mushroom 
sauce. 

When  I  came  to,  I  remembered  I 
was  only  three  feet  from  the  sidewalk, 
but  somehow  I'd  lost  the  points  of  the 
compass.  Bill,  and  after  hunting  a  long 
while  for  the  sun,  and  locating  it,  I 
struck  out  for  shore. 

In  my  hurry  I  didn't  find  the  curb, 
70 


A   TENDERFOOT 

for  the  warning  toot  of  an  automobile 
— sou'  by  sou'west — decided  me  to 
move  on  immediately.  I  made  a  run, 
and  slid  along  the  gutter  on  my  stom- 
ach for  a  couple  of  yards,  cleaning  up 
in  front  of  some  woman's  house  with- 
out charging  her  a  blamed  cent  for 
it,  and  when  I  picked  myself  up  and 
tried  to  get  my  bearings,  I'll  be  hanged 
if  that  same  woman  didn't  holler  out 
the  window  at  me,  "  to  keep  off  the 
grass — couldn't  I  see  the  sign!  " 

Now,  Bill,  you  know  there  are  mo- 
ments when  your  feelings  are  so  hurt 
you  can't  get  sassy  to  save  your  life. 
Well,  that  was  one  of  'em.  I  was  sure 
hurt,  inside  and  out,  and  I  knew  my 
appearance  was  against  me.  I  didn't 
dare  sass  her,  for  I  saw  a  bulldog,  with 
full-grown  teeth,  through  the  slats  in 


A    TENDERFOOT 

the  fence,  and  there  was  a  policeman 
coming  up  the  street. 

I'd  seen  many  a  man  run  in  on  sus- 
picion that  looked  a  whole  lot  better 
than  I  did,  Bill.  My  clothes  had  sud- 
denly changed  into  a  sunburnt,  punkin' 
color;  there  was  a  hole  big  as  my  fist 
in  one  of  my  pant  legs,  and  my  shirt — 
well.  Bill,  my  shirt  was  a  good  stand- 
off between  a  street  sweeper  and  the 
hole  in  one  of  mother's  doughnuts. 
But,  by-gum,  I  still  had  that  dog- 
gorned  transfer  in  my  hand,  hanging 
onto  it  like  it  was  a  life  preserver. 

I    saw   another   car   go   by   with    a 

"Take  next  car"  sign  hanging  in  the 

front  window,  and  one  followed  five 

minutes  later  marked  "  Special,"  but 

I  had  long  ago  lost  all  my  interest  in 

street  cars,  and  wouldn't  have  flagged 
^2 


A   TENDERFOOT 

another  one  of  'em  if  I'd  had  to  walk 
back  to  Los  Angeles. 

Pasadena  may  be  Heaven  under 
some  circumstances,  but  what  I  had  oc- 
casion to  call  it  that  day  was  a  shorter, 
more  forceful  word,  Bill,  and  rhymed 
with — well — it  was  a  long  way  from 
Heaven,  when  there  wasn't  any  street 
cars  running. 

I  found  a  kid  and  gave  him  a  quar- 
ter to  stay  there  and  use  up  that  blamed 
transfer,  so  I  could  get  even  with  the 
street  car  company. 

The  kid  was  willing — he  called  it  a 
''  puddin'." 

Mebbe  it  was — but  I'd  had  mine, 
and  I  ain't  stingy. 

The  only  real  thing  I've  got  against 
Pasadena,  Bill,  is,  that  they  have 
snakes  in  their  canyons  and  no  sure 

7^ 


A    TENDERFOOT 

remedy  in  town  for  a  man  that  gets 
bitten— nope,  not  a  drop,  Bill. 

"Lydia  Pinkham's"  and  "  Castoria  " 
is  the  best  thing  they  can  do  for  you, 
even  if  you  show  'em  the  bite. 


74 


THROUGH  TOURISTS' 
GLASSES 


F^EARD  two  ten- 
derfeet      talking 
on  the  way  up  town  from  the 
depot  the  other  day. 

At  almost  every  street  corner 
in  Los  Angeles,  you'll  find  little  tamale 
wagons  standing. 

One  fellar  saw  the  sign,  "  Tamales  " 
and  asked  the  other  one  what  they 
were. 

"  Oh,   they're   a   kind  of  bird  they 


A    TENDERFOOT 

have  out  here,"  he  said,  looking  very 
v/ise — and  to  the  conductor  as  he 
passed  through  the  car,  said  "  We  want 
to  get  off  at  Fig  —  Fig  —  Fig  — " 

"  Figueroa  Street,"  jerked  out  the 
conductor,  and  the  tourist  nodded 
wearily,  as  he  grunted  something  about 
"  the  damned  dago  names  out  here, 
anyway." 

Speaking  of  street  cars,  Bill,  I've 
got  to  give  Los  Angeles  the  whole  palm 
tree  for  having  the  finest  street  car 
service  in  the  country. 

There  are  more  cars,  going  in  more 
directions,  than  you  can  imagine,  and 
they  also  have  more  home  made  rules, 
than  any  street  car  company  in  the 
country. 

When  tourists  come  to  town  they  sit 
up  and  take  notice  of  the  wonderful 
76 


A   TENDERFOOT 

breed  of  street  car  conductors  Los  Ang- 
eles is  blessed   (?)  with. 

If  you  should  forget  to  ask  for  a 
transfer  the  minute  you  drop  a  nickel 
into  the  dirtiest  paw  you  ever  saw  on 
a  man,  then  you've  paid  your  way  into 
the  circus,  and  the  fun  begins. 

If  the  passenger  happens  to  be  a  big 
fellar,  and  could  without  any  effort 
knock  the  smart  conductor  down,  he'll 
only  get  a  hard  look  and  his  transfer 
— if  its  a  little  fellar,  that  couldn't  lick 
a  fly  that  was  stuck  on  sticky  fly 
paper,  he'll  shrivel  him  up  to  the  size 
of  a  peanut  in  just  about  two  sec- 
onds. 

If  its  a  woman,  and  a  fat  and  sassy 
one,  he'll  kinder  back  off  and  tell  her 
to  ask  for  her  transfer  when  she  pays 
her  fare,  and  all  he'll  get  out  of  it,  is 

77 


A    TENDERFOOT 

"Aw  gwan,  yer  pipe's  out"!  and  he'll 
meekly  hand  out  the  paper. 

But  the  tired  little  woman,  with  a 
lot  of  "  cash  and  no  delivery"  grocer- 
ies piled  up  in  her  lap,  who  is  getting 
home  from  work,  and  who  is  so  done 
up,  she  hasnt  got  life  enough  left  in  her 
to  care  whether  a  man  smokes  in  her 
face  or  not — she  gets  hers  in  bunches, 
and  then  some. 

After  he  has  jawed  until  his  tongue 
aches,  and  has  spit  out  everything  he 
has  in  his  mouth,  except  a  big  chew  of 
tobacco,  he  shoves  the  transfer  under 
her  nose,  and  leaves  her  wondering 
why  the  good  Lord  ever  made  such  a 
thin^  and  called  it  "  Man." 


7« 


CALIFORNIA  YARNS 


OU    know,    Bill, 
California     has 
the  name  of  being  the  home  of 
the  biggest  liars  on  earth,  but 
^  that    dont    mean    the    "  birth- 
place "  of  'em,  b'gosh. 

When  you  come  to  think  of  it,  most 
of  the  people  out  here  came  from  the 
East  and  they  are  the  ones  that  are 
doing  the  lying,  not  the  natives. 

Old  Sam  Watkins,  who  used  to  be 
a  deacon  in  the  church  back  home,  and 


A    TENDERFOOT 

led  all  the  prayer  meetings,  and  took 
up  the  collections — he's  been  out  here 
for  five  years,  and  by  gum,  of  all  the 
liars  I've  run  across  in  California,  he 
takes  the  whole  bakery. 

He  told  me  more  double-back-action 
lies  in  five  minutes,  than  you  could 
count  on  both  hands,  and  feet,  too,  and 
sir,  he  never  turned  a  hair  doing  it. 

When  he  told  me  about  "  oysters 
growing  on  trees "  out  here,  some- 
where, I  had  to  say,  "Why  Samuel! 
How  can  you  lie  so!  " 

He  says  its  a  fact! 

Mebbe  it  is — I  dont  know. 

He  also  told  me  of  a  fellar  out  here, 
who  planted  some  pumkin  seeds,  and 
by  gum,  before  he  could  get  up  ofif 
his  knees,  and  run,  the  vines  came  up 
and  choked  him  to  death. 
80 


A    TENDERFOOT 

Well,  now  you  know,  Bill,  when  a 
deacon  of  a  church,  tells  you  such  fairy 
tales  as  that,  you  can  imagine  what  an 
every  day  citizen  of  Los  Angeles  can 
fire  at  you. 

He  told  me  one  more. 

Once  when  they  had  a  thunder  storm 
out  here,  the  lightning  struck  a 
mother  hen,  with  eight  little  chicks 
under  her,  and  killed  every  blamed  one 
of  'em,  but  never  hurt  the  old  hen  a 
bit. 

By  gum,  now  I  come  to  think  of  it, 
I'll  bet  a  doughnut,  that  was  the  very 
old  hen  I  had  served  to  me  one  day, 
out  at  Casa  Verdugo,  for  a  spring 
chicken.  Casa  Verdugo  is  a  mighty 
swell  Spanish  restaurant,  just  out  side 
of  Los  Angeles. 

No-sir-ree,  thunder  and  lightning 
8i 


A    TENDERFOOT 

wouldnt  have  any  effect  on  that  hen, 
for  I  tried  every  thing  from  a  pocket 
knife  to  a  saw,  I  tipped  the  waiter  for, 
and  then  couldnt  see  where  I  had  made 
any  headway,  even  on  the  white  meat. 

After  I'd  sweat  so  you  could  wring 
out  my  undershirt,  I  gave  up,  and 
ordered  some  tamales. 

I  got  'em,  and  they  were  bully  but 
only  those  who  have  eaten  "  hot  ta- 
males," at  Casa  Verdugo,  will  under- 
stand and  marvel  how  I  could  have 
lived  to  tell  the  tale,  when  I  say  I  ate 
six  of  'em,  before  I  threw  up  my  hands 
and  told  the  waiter  to  turn  on  the  hose. 

If  the  place  that  never  freezes  over, 

is  any  hotter  than  those  tamales  were, 

I'm  going  to  travel  the  "  straight  and 

narrow    path,"    mighty    carefully    the 

rest  of  my  days. 

82 


A   TENDERFOOT 

I  aint  going  to  take  any  chances — 
no-sir-ree. 

I'll  send  one  home  for  your  mother- 
in-law,  Bill.  Put  in  a  little  extra  cay- 
enne pepper,  and  a  dash  of  Tabasco 
sauce, — as  the  cook  books  say — then 
take  a  trip  out  of  town  for  a  few  days, 
until  the  hot  spell  blows  over. 

One  of  'em  ought  to  bring  on  paral- 
ysis of  the  tongue — still — I  know 
you've  tried  everything,  and  nothing 
seems  to  work,  in  her  case. 


«9 


THE  WHYS  AND  WHERE 
FORES 

INCE    I've    lived 
in   this  boarding- 
house,  Bill,  we've 
only     changed 
landladies  seven   times  in  three 
months. 

Just  as  soon  as  I  get  used  to  one 
woman's  biscuits,  and  manage  to  get 
my  stomach  trained  down  to  her  kind 
of  cooking,  she  ups  and  sells  out  at  a 
profit. 

Mebbe  the  next  woman  that  tickles 
85 


A    TENDERFOOT 

the  cook  stove  don't  know  a  biscuit 
from  a  door  knob,  and,  by  gum,  after 
you've  eaten  a  few  of  her  kind,  a  pack- 
age of  hard-tack  looks  mighty  good  to 
you. 

I'd  quit  staying  here  long  ago  if  it 
wasn't  for  a  little  redheaded,  freckled- 
faced  kid  named  Bennie  that  has  kinder 
adopted  me,  and  tags  along  with  me 
whenever  he  gets  a  chance. 

He's  a  cute  kid.  Bill — out  here  all 
alone,  and,  by  gum,  he's  so  homely  it 
would  make  the  tears  come  to  your  eyes 
just  to  look  at  him.  He's  some  rela- 
tion to  the  landlady,  and  I  don't  know 
which  has  the  most  to  be  sorry  for. 
Says  he's  got  to  go  back  home  to-mor- 
row, poor  kid,  and  he's  cried  so  hard 
about  it  for  the  last  week  or  two  that 
his  face  looks  like  he'd  run  up  against 
86 


A   TENDERFOOT 

a  swarm  of  bees.  Can't  see  his  eyes  at 
all — nothing  there  but  the  slits.  He's 
promised  to  write  to  me  just  as  soon  as 
he  gets  home,  and  I've  promised  to  send 
him  a  box  of  horned  toads  and  tarantu- 
las, so  he  can  have  some  fun  with  the 
natives.  Bennie  says  he's  going  to  be 
President  some  day  when  the  Demo- 
crats get  half  a  show. 

Mebbe  he  will — I  dunno. 

There's  many  a  man  that  started  in 
on  a  farm,  and  landed  in  the — poor- 
house. 

Speaking  of  farms.  Bill — Southern 
California  is  one  great  big  valley  of 
mighty  fine  farms — big  farms  and  little 
farms,  all  kinds  of  farms  you  can  ask 
about  are  located  around  Los  Angeles. 

Flower  farms — carnations,  calla-lily, 
sweet-pea  and  violets — acres  of  'em,  if 


A    TENDERFOOT 

stead  of  the  little  old  eight  by  ten  gar- 
dens we  have  back  home. 

Pigeon  farms  down  by  the  river- 
bed— where  you  can  see  one  hundred 
and  twenty-five  thousand  fluttering, 
flying,  cooing  birds  any  day  in  the 
year. 

Ostrich  farms — where  the  poor  fel- 
lars  start  in  an  egg  and  come  out 
feather  dusters. 

Alligator  farms — where  the  'gators 
start  in,  wiggly  little  "  critters,"  and 
come  out  traveling  bags,  hand  bags  and 
pocketbooks;  and  frog  farms,  Bill,  that 
are  responsible  for  more  cussin'  than 
any  cat  concert  your  back  fence  was 
ever  guilty  of. 

Frogs'  legs  are  all  right  when  they're 
fried,  Bill,  but  they  don't  mean  much 
to  a  man  who  needs  sleep  mighty  bad, 
88 


A   TENDERFOOT 

unless  they're  served  to  him  hot  with 
melted  butter  and  a  stein  of  beer. 

I  ain't  had  any — I  mean  frogs'  legs, 
not  beer — since  I  came  to  town.  Our 
landlady  ain't  lived  in  California  long 
enough  to  know  a  dish  of  frogs'  legs 
from  a  dish  of  stewed  prunes — anyway, 
if  she  does,  she's  keeping  it  to  herself. 

She  says  prunes  are  awful  healthy — 
awful — mebbe  they  are,  I  dunno. 

But  /  ain't  sick — except  of  stewed 
prunes,  and  I'm  so  dog-gorned  sick  of 
stewed  prunes  that  my  stomach  gets 
right  down  on  its  knees  and  says  its 
prayers  every  time  a  dish  of  'em  comes 
on  the  table 


89 


WHEN  EAST  COMES 
WEST 


HE  N.  E.  A.  was 
out  here  a  year 
or  so  ago,  and  they  certainly 
had  a  great  time.  They  were 
all  in  on  anything  that  was  free, 
and  almost  everything  was  open  to 
them,  and  no  questions  asked.  A  fel- 
lar  that  runs  a  tamale  wagon  told  me 
a  good  story  about  them  while  they 
were  here,  and  I'll  tell  it  to  you. 
A  bunch  of  women  members  went 


A    TENDERFOOT 

into  a  cheap  popular  restaurant,  where 
a  full  meal  is  only  ten  cents.  The 
leader  told  the  boss,  as  about  seven  of 
them  filed  in,  that  they  were 
"  tourists." 

"  Needn't  a  told  me,"  he  grunted. 

"And  we  are  here  with  the  N.  E. 
A.,"  was  added. 

"  Sure,"  he  said,  without  taking  any 
interest. 

"  We  would  like  to  patronize  your 
restaurant,"  she  continued. 

"  All  right,"  he  said,  looking  out  of 
the  window. 

"  We  shall  remain  here  about  two 
weeks,  and  if  we  come  here  we  would 
like  to  get  rates." 

"Rates?  On  a  ten  cent  meal?  Soup, 
meat,  vegetables,  ice  cream  and  coffee? 
Say  woman,  I've  seen  cheap  guys  in 
92 


A   TENDERFOOT 

pants,  but  a  female  what  will  ask  for 
rates  in  a  ten  cent  hash  house,  is  the 
limit.  You  beat  the  female  that  came 
in  here  yesterday,  and  told  the  waitress 
that  she  came  out  here  with  a  ten  dol- 
lar bill  and  only  one  undershirt,  and 
she  didnt  intend  to  change  either  of 
'em  until  she  got  home.  Rates  on  a 
ten  cent  meal?  Nix!  Vamoose!"  and 
they  were  glad  to  vamoose,  which 
means  "  hike  "  in  California,  Bill. 


93 


OUT  IN  GOD'S  COUNTRY 

ELL  me,  Bill, 
where  on  earth 
could  you  travel 
one  hundred  miles 
for  one  hundred  cents? 
Nowhere,  but  in  Los  Angeles! 
And  it's  the  most  for  your  money  you 
ever  thought  you'd  get,  too. 

And  let  me  tell  you,  some  of  those 
miles  are  worth  dollars  instead  of  cents 
to  anyone  on  earth.  Some  of  those 
miles    along    the   glorious   old   ocean 

95 


A    TENDERFOOT 

would  make  you  get  mighty  quiet  in- 
side all  of  a  sudden,  Bill,  and  before 
you  knew  it,  youM  be  thanking  the 
Good  Father  for  being  allowed  to  live 
and  breathe  into  your  moth-eaten  old 
lungs  such  air  as  only  California  is 
blessed  with. 

If  there's  a  mite  of  "worth  while" 
in  your  make-up — if  there's  an  ounce 
of  the  "  real  thing"  in  your  soul,  it's 
bound  to  come  to  the  top  on  a  trip  like 
this,  Bill,  or  you  ain't  worth  shoveling 
up  and  dumping  into  the  dirt  barrel. 

If  you  can  sit  still  and  see  that  great 
stretch  of  ocean  all  a-glisten  in  the  sun 
— if  you  can  look  up  overhead  and  see 
a  sky  that's  bluer  than  the  eyes  your 
sweetheart  used  to  have — if  you  can 
throw  your  head  back  and  take  in  a 
breath  of  air  that  reaches  clear  way 
96 


A    TENDERFOOT 

down  to  your  corns,  b'gosh,  and  tastes 
good  all  the  way  going  down — if  you 
can  do  all  these  things  and  a  whole  lot 
more,  and  not  find  a  drop  of  water  in 
the  corner  of  your  eye  or  on  the  end  of 
your  nose,  why.  Bill,  you'd  call  Para- 
dise itself  Lonesometown. 

Nope — there  ain't  many  of  us  that 
don't  get  a  "  still  "  feeling  inside  of  us 
at  times,  for  there's  a  spark  of  some- 
thing, clear  'way  down  inside  of  some- 
where, that  we  all  have  to  listen  to 
sometimes,  only  it  ain't  allowed  to  talk 
very  often. 

We  keep  it  muzzled  or  chloro- 
formed until  it's  so  little  and  frail  that, 
whenever  it  tries  to  make  itself  heard, 
its  voice  is  so  pitifully  weak  we're 
liable  to  be  ashamed  of  it,  and  choke 
it  off  with  a  ''  made  "  laugh. 

97 


A   TENDERFOOT 

Nope,  I  ain't  joined  any  church  since 
I  got  here — I'm  only  a  traveler  out 
here  in  God's  country,  and  I'm  just 
glad  I'm  living,  that's  all. 

Bill,  I  wish  you  could  raise  enough 
dough  to  get  out  here  before  you 
die. 

It  would  even  be  worth  while  to 
mortgage  the  farm  and  find  out  that 
there  is  something  else  in  the  world  be- 
sides digging  potatoes  and  feeding  the 
pigs.  You  ain't  done  much  else  for 
forty  years  to  my  knowledge. 

Your  old  woman  ain't  seen  nothing 
but  a  sink  full  of  dirty  dishes  and  a  tub 
full  of  dirty  clothes  for  over  forty 
years.  Think  of  it,  Bill,  just  think  of 
it!  She'd  drop  dead  if  you  ever  gave 
her  one  measly  dollar  to  spend  all  by 

herself  and  forgot  to  ask  her  what  she 

98 


A    TENDERFOOT 

did  with  it.  Think  of  that,  too,  Bill, 
while  you're  dusting  out  the  cobwebs 
in  your  conscience. 

Life  ain't  much  to  a  man  on  a  farm, 
and  for  a  woman — well,  if,  without 
knowing  it,  that  old  woman  of  yours 
got  hold  of  the  wrong  ticket  when  she 
died,  and  finally  landed  in  the  place 
where  you  can't  buy  ice  for  love  nor 
money,  Bill,  she'd  only  fold  her  hands, 
poor  thing,  and  say:  "  Well,  it's  kinder 
warm  here,  and  I  always  hoped  I  could 
have  just  one  dish  of  ice-cream  when  I 
got  to  Heaven,  but,  no  matter — it's  a 
change,  anyway,  and  I  can  get  along 
somehow,  I  reckon." 

When  I  took  this  one-hundred-mile 
trip,  Bill,  my  back  ached  all  day  long, 
carrying  around  the  big  white  souvenir 
button    they   nailed   on    us    when    we 

99 


A    TENDERFOOT 

bought  our  ticket.  Why,  Bill,  that  but- 
ton was  as  big  as  an  eating  house  bis- 
cuit, and  just  about  as  heavy.  We 
started  out  with  a  hungry  looking 
crowd,  a  good-looking  motorman  and 
conductor,  and  a  "  down-to-date " 
guide,  that  certainly  knew  everything 
that  ever  happened  in  Southern 
California,  and  a  few  things  that 
even  the  oldest  inhabitant  had  forgot- 
ten. 

We  all  gaped  at  the  Giant  Grape 
Vine,  the  "Jim  Jeffries  "  of  all  grape- 
vines, whose  trunk  (the  grapevine's, 
not  Jim's)  measured  eight  feet  around, 
and  whose  leaves  were  twelve  inches 
in  length. 

When  I  tell  you,  Bill,  they  gather 
two  and  a  half  tons  of  grapes  off  this 
vine  in  a  season,  you'll  think  I'm  lying, 

100 


A   TENDERFOOT 

but  I  ain't.  It's  a  California  story  all 
right,  but  it's  a  true  one  just  the  same. 

I  saw  a  fifty-year-old  rubber  tree 
that  was  brought  out  here  a  little  slip 
in  a  pot,  and  now  it  towers  over  all  the 
houses,  and  is  worth  losing  your  dinner 
to  see.  They  told  me  they  gathered 
two  crops  of  rubber  boots  ofif  this  tree 
every  year,  and  had  now  grafted  it  to 
automobile  tires. 

Yes,  I  know,  Bill,  it  sounds  kinder 
"  fishy,"  but  I  saw  the  tree — crop  had 
just  been  picked. 

We  passed  the  town  of  Watts  on  the 
way  to  the  ocean,  and  I  wanted  to  see 
it  mighty  bad,  I'd  heard  so  much  about 
it,  but  when  we  slowed  up,  there  was 
an  ice  wagon  standing  right  square  in 
front  of  the  town,  so  I  missed  it,  by 
gum,  after  all. 

lOI 


LIBRARY 

UNTSTEPSTTY  OF  CAUFQINlJC 

SANTA  BAiiBARA 


A    TENDERFOOT 

This  hundred-mile  trip  I've  been 
telling  you  about  is  second  cousin  to 
the  "  Balloon  Trip,"  another  trolley 
ride  that  takes  you  scooting  all  over  the 
country  and  brings  you  home  in  time 
for  dinner.  Why  they  call  it  the 
"  Balloon  Trip  "  I  dunno,  for  it's  all 
on  land,  Bill;  nothing  up  in  the  air 
about  it  except  the  female  that  sat  next 
to  me  in  the  car  and  growled  all  the 
way  down  and  all  the  way  back.  I 
tried  to  lose  her  after  the  first  ten  min- 
utes, but  she  hung  onto  me  like  a  sew- 
ing machine  agent,  because  she  said  I 
looked  so  much  like  her  first  husband. 

Since  I  took  this  ride  I've  found  out 
why  every  tenderfoot  that  goes  back 
East  has  to  pay  excess  baggage. 

Moonstones! 

Yep — one  of  the  sights  we  took  in 


A   TENDERFOOT 

was  Moonstone  Beach,  and  I'll  bet  the 
only  time  I  really  ever  got  what  you 
might  call  "loaded"  was  on  moon- 
stones, Bill.  By  gum,  I  carted  round 
more  than  fifteen  pounds  of  'em  in  the 
hot  sun  for  four  mortal  hours,  and  all 
the  time  I  kept  wondering  what  in 
thunder  made  me  so  tired. 

When  I  got  home  and  emptied  my 
clothes,  all  I  had  left  was  ^dime  with 
a  hole  in  it,  and  about  a  quart  of  sand 
in  each  shoe,  but  I'll  bet  I  had  $4.98 
worth  of  moonstones  that  would  easy 
cost  me  $15  to  have  polished  up  in 
shape  to  be  worth  looking  at — if  you 
liked  moonstones,  and  I  never  did  like 
'em,  an5rway. 

When  you  buy  your  ticket  for  the 
"  Balloon  Trip,"  they  hand  you  out  a 
little  blue  silk  ribbon  to  pin  on,  to  ad- 


A    TENDERFOOT 

vertise  the  fact  that  you  are  a  '*  Rube  " 
to  everyone  who  takes  the  time  to  gap 
at  you. 

After  I  pinned  mine  on.  I  felt  like  a 
"  W.  C.  T.  U."  out  for  an  airing  on 
the  water  wagon,  and  the  only  thing 
that  reconciled  me  to  wear  the  blamed 
thin^  was  the  fact  that  the  stops  we 
made  on. the  trip  to  the  ocean  were 
''  dr\-  on^' 

The  condtStor  told  me  the  only  way 
I  cihild  get  even  i  ^n^'^^  ^^  "  Here's 
Hoping "  was  to  go  y£  Kkthing,  be 
taken  with  a  cramp,  holler  '*  Help," 
and  when  they  dragged  me  out.  if  I 
laid  still  enough  for  them  to  think  I 
was  dead,  they  might  pour  some  of  the 
awful  stuff  down  my  throat  to  be  sure 
about  it. 

I  had  a  good  mind  to  take  a  chance 
104 


A   TENDERFOOT 

at  it,  but  our  time  was  short,  and  the 
guide  said  he'd  tried  it  once  himself, 
and  all  he  got  was  some  Jamaica 
ginger. 


105 


LOS  ANGELES 
STREETS 


GOT  into  Los 
Angeles  in  ample 
__  time  to  go  through  their  annual 
tearing  up  period. 
^^:M  You  know,  there  is  some- 
thing funny  about  this.  Just  as  soon 
as  winter  comes,  Los  Angeles  begins 
to  tear  up  its  streets  from  one  end  to 
the  other. 

All  summer  long,  when  mighty  few 
strangers  are  in  town,  there  is  nothing 
doing.     But  just  as  sure  as  fine  sun- 
107 


A    TENDERFOOT 

shiny  weather  begins,  then  an  army  of 
dagos  and  greezers  march  forth,  and 
proceed  to  dig  up  every  blamed  street 
in  town. 

It  is  just  the  same,  year  in  and  year 
out.  Its  got  to  be  a  joke  with  the  tour- 
ists, for  Los  Angeles  wouldnt  look  nat- 
ural to  'em,  when  they  come  out  to 
spend  the  winter,  if  the  whole  shop- 
ping district  wasnt  well  nigh  impass- 
able. 

They  will  finish  putting  down  a  mac- 
adamized street  one  day,  and  by  jingo, 
during  the  following  night,  I'll  be 
hanged  if  some  fellar  hasnt  figured  out 
how  to  tear  it  up.  Needn't  take  my 
word  for  it,  Bill. 

Here's  another  fellar  kicking 
through  the  columns  of  a  Los 
Angeles  paper. 

io8 


A   TENDERFOOT 

SPEED   THE    DAY! 

Will  there  ever  come  a  season, 
When  the  workmen  will  abstain 

From  ripping  loose  the  asphalt 
On  Broadway,  Spring  and  Main? 

Speed  the  happy,  gladsome  morning, 
When  with  joy  our  brimming  cup 

Will  slop  over,  with  this  edict: 


DO   NOT   TEAR 

THIS 
PAVEMENT   UP! 


After  you've  cussed  yourself  sick, 
trying  to  squirm  your  way  under 
horses'  noses  and  women's  four-story 
hats — falling  over  a  couple  of  hun- 
dred little  wooden  saw-horses  the 
workmen  stick  up  any  old  place  in 
the  middle  of  the  street,  while  they 
patch  up  a  few  dozen  holes — go  and 
hire  an  automobile  at  $4.00  per  hour 

log 


A    TENDERFOOT 

( — yep,  they  soak  you  that  much  in 
the  Angel  City)  and  take  a  ride  out 
into  the  country  or  through  the  beau- 
tiful residence  portion  of  the  town. 

The  country  and  residence  portion 
is  all  right — glorious  sunshine  and 
views,  and  the  finest,  clearest  air  that 
ever  dusted  out  the  cobwebs  in  your 
lungs,  but  suffering  Peter,  the  roads — 
the  roads!!  Bill,  I  never  worked  so 
hard  and  paid  $4.00  an  hour  for  the 
privilege  of  doing  so,  in  all  my  life — 
never! 

We  hit  every  chuck  hole  from  Pasa- 
dena to  the  ocean.  Now,  when  I  tell 
you  this,  it  means  a  whole  lot  more  to 
me,  than  it  does  to  you,  for  it  is  a  sore 
subject  to  look  back  on,  I  tell  you. 

They  have  more  varieties  of 
"  Bullyvards "  around  Los  Angeles, 
no 


A   TENDERFOOT 

than  that  man  Heinz  has  pickles — 57 
varieties  wouldnt  cover  'em. 

There  are  little  holes  and  big  holes, 
long  holes  and  short  holes,  holes  you 
fall  in  all  over,  and  the  kind  you  pull 
in  after  you,  on  your  way  down.  There 
are  mud  holes,  water  holes,  oil  holes, 
dust  holes,  in  fact.  Bill,  every  known 
variety  of  chuck  holes  you  ever  thought 
of,  can  be  found  in  and  around  Los 
Angeles. 


Ill 


MT.  LOWE 


S    all    tenderfeet 
are    expected    to 
the    trip    up    Mt. 


do,    I    took 

Lowe.  Its  all  right,  that  trip 
fej^  is,  except  that  it  makes  you  feel 
that  if  you  ever  get  down  on  the  level 
again  you'll  go  to  church  a  little 
oftener,  and  be  prepared  for  the  next 
world. 

By  gum,  there  are  spots  on  that  trip, 
and  then  some! 

"3 


A    TENDERFOOT 

I  went  up  with  a  fellar  named 
Smith,  and  as  we  got  half  way  up  that 
blamed  incline,  I  got  to  thinking  pretty 
hard. 

You  see.  Bill,  at  the  bottom  of  that 
incline,  there's  a  solid  wall  of  rock, 
fifty  feet  high,  not  more  than  twenty- 
five  feet  from  where  those  cable  cars 
stop. 

Yes-sir-ree,  I  got  to  thinking  that  if 
anything  busted,  and  we  shot  back 
down  hill,  they  would  never  be  able 
to  tell  which  was  me  and  which  was 
Smith  when  they  gathered  us  up  to 
ship  back  East  in  the  baggage  car. 

You  bet  I  kept  my  mouth  shut  and 
I  guess  I  held  my  breath  too,  for  some- 
way I  kinder  felt  that  too  much  laugh- 
ing and  loud  talking  would  jar  that 
dinky  car  and  mebbe  loosen  something. 
114 


A   TENDERFOOT 

I  was  mighty  glad  when  I  reached 
level  ground  at  the  top  of  the  incline. 

Then  began  a  foot  race  for  another 
dinky  car,  a  bobbed  tail  electric  this 
time,  that  takes  you  on  further  up  the 
mountain  to  Mt.  Lowe.  There  were 
about  seventy-five  people  all  trying  at 
once  to  get  into  one  lonesome  little  car, 
that  groaned  with  only  twenty-five 
aboard,  but  they  all  got  on  somehow  or 
somewhere,  and  the  rest  of  the  ride  we 
wiggled  up  and  down,  in  and  out, 
around  corners  and  across  squeaking 
little  bridges,  that  looked  like  they'd 
go  down  for  a  cent  and  a  half,  and  all 
the  time  everybody  was  "  oh-ing  "  and 
"  ah-ing  "  and  no  wonder. 

Say  Bill,  if  you  ever  get  to  Califor- 
nia, dont  miss  this  trip.  They  skin 
you  on  the  price  of  it,  all  right,  but  its 

"5 


A   TENDERFOOT 

the  most  satisfying  "  skinning "  I've 
had  since  I  came  out  here. 

Be  sure  and  take  your  mother-in-law 
along,  Bill,  and  half  way  up  that  in- 
cline, if  there's  anything  on  earth  you 
want,  ask  her  for  it,  while  you  are 
hanging  onto  the  side  of  the  mountain 
at  an  angle  of  65  degrees. 

You'll  get  it  all  right,  if  she's  got 
wind  enough  left  to  say,  "  Yep!  " 


116 


COUNTING  MY  MONEY— 
MEBBE! 

Y  gum,  Bill,  I  own 
more  oil  stock 
than  that  man 
Rockyfellar  does. 
I've  got  stock  in  every  blamed 
company  that  ever  opened  up, 
from  Los  Angeles  to  the  City  of  Mex- 
ico. Some  of  it  is  paid  for,  some  of  it 
is  half  paid  for,  and  some  of  it  never 
will  be  paid  for. 

Some  of  it  is  mine,  only  it  ain't — in- 
stallment plan,  Bill — and  I'm  going  to 
let  go  of  every  share  of  it. 
117 


A   TENDERFOOT 

They're  the  only  ones  I  can  let  go  of, 
b'gosh;  the  others  are  mine  for 
''  keeps." 

Why,  Bill,  I've  got  a  bunch  of  oil 
stock  that  would  choke  an  elephant, 
and  I've  counted  up  my  money — on 
paper — and  figured  out  I'll  have  just 
$3,333,333  inside  of  the  next  six 
months,  if  I  don't  wake  up  in  the 
meantime. 

I've  looked  for  dividends  so  long, 
Bill,  that  the  doctor  says  I'm  liable  to 
have  stigmatism  of  both  eyes,  but  when 
those  dividends  show  up — well,  like  as 
not  I'll  send  you  a  season  ticket  to  Cali- 
fornia. Season's  good  the  year  round 
out  here,  so  I'll  bet  you'll  work  that 
ticket  till  it  hollers  "  help."  If  every- 
thing these  oil  fellars  tell  me  works 
out  according  to  schedule,  mebbe  I'll 
ii8 


A    TENDERFOOT 

send  a  special  train  back  there  for  you 
and  the  old  woman.  Kinder  surprise 
you  folks  back  there  to  hear  of  your 
Uncle  Eben  buying  out  the  Southern 
Pacific  and  taking  a  mortgage  on  the 
Santa  Fe,  wouldn't  it? 

That's  what  some  of  these  oil  fellars 
reckon  I'll  be  doing  before  very  long. 

Mebbe  I  will,  I  dunno. 

The  production  of  oil  in  California 
amounts  to  over  $50,000,000  a  year, 
Bill.  Looks  like  some  fellars  out  here 
ought  to  be  able  to  smoke  two-bit 
cigars,  don't  it? 

Say,  did  I  ever  look  like  a  "  Rube  " 
to  you — honest? 

Sometimes    I    kinder   wonder   how 

these  fellars  knew  I'd  be  so  easy,  and 

come  and  camped  right  down  side  of 

me  until  every  blamed  thing  I  had  left 
119 


A   TENDERFOOT 

in  my  jeans  was  a  horse-chestnut  and 
a  suspender  button.  Still,  it's  worth  a 
lot  to  have  some  fellar,  with  a  diamond 
in  his  shirt  front  that  is  big  enough  to 
stop  a  freight  train,  slap  you  on  the 
back  and  call  you  "  Colonel."  Makes 
other  folks  open  their  eyes  and  think 
you're  somebody  when,  'way  down  in- 
side of  you,  you  know  mighty  well 
you're  just  a  d —  fool. 

Of  course,  I  got  in  on  the  ground 
floor,  Bill,  but  sometimes  I  believe  I 
was  what  they  call  a  "  skinch "  out 
here.  I  never  have  asked  anybody 
what  a  "  skinch  "  was,  but  I'll  bet  it 
ain't  anything  to  pin  a  medal  on  you 
for. 

Speaking  of  medals — I  hope  some 
day  I'll  be  able  to  pin  a  medal  onto  the 
fellar  that  had  courage  enough  to  nail 


A   TENDERFOOT 

boxes  of  chocolate  creams  onto  the 
backs  of  the  seats  in  some  of  the 
play  houses  in  this  town.  All  over, 
you're  sure  to  find  little  metal  boxes 
marked  "  candy,"  not  two  feet  from 
your  pocketbook,  that  just  sit  and  rub- 
ber at  you  until  you  can  feel  a  dime 
getting  so  blamed  hot  in  your  pocket 
book,  that  you  can  smell  leather  burn- 
ing. So  you  trot  out  the  dime  and  drop 
it  into  the  slit  that's  grinning  at  you 
and  out  pops  a  box  of  candy — mebbe! 

By  gum,  I  played  that  machine  in 
front  of  me,  three  times — thirty  cents 
— and  nothing  happened.  So  I  tried 
the  next  one,  and  got  a  box  of  choco- 
lates, that,  honest,  Bill,  if  one  of  'em 
hit  you,  it  would  knock  you  down. 

They  had  been  there,  well,  some  fel- 
lar  said,   since   the  show  opened.     I 

121 


A    TENDERFOOT 

dont  know.  I  gave  them  to  a  kid  in 
front  of  me  that  had  the  "  wiggles " 
and  they  kept  him  busy  the  rest  of  the 
show. 

They  say  a  Los  Angeles  man  will 
sell  everything  he  owns  if  he  can  get 
his  price  for  it,  and  b'gosh,  I  believe  it. 

Yes  sir,  everything  he  owns,  except 
his  wife,  and  between  you  and  me, 
Bill,  many  a  poor  hen  pecked  man 
looks  over  the  exchange  column  to  find 
some  other  fellar,  who  like  himself,  is 
ready  and  anxious  to  make  a  trade  in 
that  line,  on  any  old  terms  to  suit. 

Los  Angeles  is  a  great  town  for 
"  swaps." 

The  papers  every  Sunday  are  full  of 


'em. 


They'll  swap  anything  from  a  half 
worn  out  tooth  brush  or  a  moth  eaten 

122 


A   TENDERFOOT 

angora  cat,  to  a  ten  acre  orange  grove 
with  a  nine  thousand  dollar  mortgage 
on  it,  and  some  of  'em  would  sell  the 
shirt  on  their  back,  if  they  could  make 
a  profit  on  it. 

You  know.  Bill,  I  believe  you  could 
even  make  a  good  trade  on  your 
mother-in-law  out  here — nothing  like 
trying,  better  bring  her  along,  and 
trade  her  for  a  good  setting  of  Rhode 
Island  Reds. 

Of  course  that  might  seem  awful 
cheap  for  her,  but  old  hens  aint  worth 
much  out  here — market  is  overstocked, 
and  besides,  Californians  aint  looking 
for  trouble 


123 


SOME    THINGS 
BOUGHT   IN    LOS 
ANGELES 


BOUGHT   a   set 
of  monkey   trip- 
lets in  a  Japanese  store  for  two 
bits. 
2j^s^3?^.      Two  bits,  Bill,  is  Californese 
for  twenty-five  cents. 

I  got  bit  on  'em,  too,  for  they  sold 

'em  as  low  as  five  cents  a  set,  later  in 

the  season,  and  at  last  gave  'em  away 

with  a  package  of  Japanese  incense. 

Now,  Japanese  incense.  Bill,  is  a  lot 

125 


A    TENDERFOOT 

of  stuff  pressed  together  hard,  like 
Spratts  Dog  Biscuits,  only  in  smaller 
doses,  thank  goodness,  and  it  is  sup- 
posed to  smell  mighty  fine  when  you 
burn  it,  but  suffering  Peter — a  pile  of 
rubbish  burning  in  a  Westlake  alley, 
is  a  bunch  of  violets  compared  to  it. 

Glue,  old  rubber  boots,  out  of  date 
eggs,  last  years  hamburger  and  over 
ripe  limburger — all  these  and  a  few 
more,  were  never  in  their  most 
*'  smelly  "  days,  guilty  of  "  acting  up," 
like  real  Japanese  incense  burning. 

These  little  monkeys  I  bought,  come 
in  all  sizes,  from  the  little  baby  monks, 
to  the  old  granddaddies.  They  all  sit 
up  in  a  row,  three  of  'em,  and  one  has 
his  hands  over  his  ears,  the  second  cov- 
ering his  eyes,  and  the  third  has  his 
hands  over  his  mouth. 
126 


A    TENDERFOOT 

I  say  "  his,"  Bill,  because  they  must 
certainly  be  boy  monkeys — a  girl  mon- 
key, would  never  live  long  enough  to 
have  her  first  picture  made,  if  she  had 
to  close  her  mouth,  and  her  ears,  and 
her  eyes.  You  know  that  yourself, 
Bill. 

I  asked  the  grinning  Jap,  I  bought 
'em  of,  what  they  were  up  to.  All  I 
could  get  out  of  him  was,  that  they 
were  the  "  three  wise  monkeys,"  and 
meant,  "  I  hear  no  evil,  see  no  evil,  and 
speak  no  evil." 

Mebbe  they  dont — I  dont  know. 

I  also  bought  a  flea  scratcher,  at  the 
same  store. 

Never  heard  of  one,  did  you? 

Waal,  they  are  little  carved  ivory 
hands  about  as  big  as  a  half  dollar, 
with  the  fingers  drawn  up,  ready  for 
127 


A   TENDERFOOT 

business.  They  are  on  the  end  of  a 
long  stick,  and  the  trick  is,  to  slide  it 
up  and  down  between  the  shoulder 
blades,  and  along  your  back  bone, 
turning  the  gentleman  over  before  he 
has  bored  a  hole  clean  through  you. 
They  tell  you  in  Los  Angeles,  that  the 
people  down  in  San  Diego  couldn't 
live  without  'em. 

They  are  fashionable  down  there, 
and  I  heard  that  some  of  the  society 
leaders  gave  "  scratcher  "  parties,  the 
most  graceful  handler  of  the  scratcher, 
winning  the  prize. 

When  you  are  in  San  Diego,  they'll 
tell  you  this  same  story  on  Los  An- 
geles. 

With  the  exception  of  San  Fran- 
cisco, San  Diego  and  Los  Angeles  love 
each  other  more  than  any  two  towns 


A   TENDERFOOT 

I've  run  across.  Cant  say  enough 
about  each  other,  while  San  Francisco 
and  Los  Angeles  love  so  strongly,  they 
could  eat  each  other  up. 

Speaking  of  fleas,  you  know,  Bill, 
there  are  some  people  in  this  world 
who  are  so  blamed  mean,  a  flea 
wouldnt  bite  'em. 

I  met  the  meanest  man  in  California 
the  other  day,  and  if  I  ever  set  eyes 
on  him  again,  I'll  bust  him  up  in  busi- 
ness, buying  arnica  and  court  plaster. 

That  man  told  me  the  very  first 
chance  I  got,  to  pick  a  ripe  olive  and 
eat  it. 

I  did. 

All  I've  got  to  say  is,  if  ever  I  lay 

my  hands  on  that  critter,  it  will  take 

him  longer  to  close  his  face  than  it  did 

me,  after  I  ate  one  of  'em. 
129 


A    TENDERFOOT 

There  are  some  things  in  this  world 
that  seem  to  stick  right  in  your  throat, 
no  matter  how  much  you  swallow  over 
'em  and  I'll  bet,  I'll  never  be  able  to 
get  the  taste  of  that  olive,  below  my 
wind-pipe.  I'll  send  a  couple  of  'em 
home,  Bill, — give  'em  to  your  mother- 
in-law,  and  tell  her  to  put  'em  both  in 
her  mouth  at  once — that  they  have  to 
be  eaten  in  pairs,  and  if  she  lives 
through  it,  and  still  believes  in  you, 
she'll  stand  by  you  till  your  money 
gives  out. 


130 


JUST  DREAMING 


ILL,   didnt  some 
fellar  ask  another 
fellar   once,   "  what  was   more 
rare  than  a  day  in  June?  " 
^M       If   he'd   asked   me,   I'd   told 
him,  "  a  winter  in  Los  Angeles." 

If  there's  any  place  nearer  Heaven 
on  this  earth,  than  a  sunny  winter  day 
in  Southern  California,  when  as  far  as 
you  can  see,  the  grass  is  like  a  great 
green  rug,  and  flowers  of  every  color 
131 


A    TENDERFOOT 

and  kind,  are  in  bloom — when  you  can 
take  your  back  home  papers  out  under 
a  big  oak  tree  and  lie  down  and  read 
of  some  poor  devil  freezing  to  death, 
in  a  down-east  blizzard — if  there's  any 
place.  Bill,  that  can  hold  a  candle  to 
it  on  this  earth,  or  any  other,  yours 
truly  dont  want  to  know  of  it. 

Like  the  little  fellar  from  Pasadena, 
this  is  good  enough  for  your  Uncle 
Eben. 

If  you  didnt  have  a  calendar  in  your 
vest  pocket,  and  didnt  see  a  newspaper 
every  day,  you'd  forget  what  month  it 
is  out  here. 

To-day  is  the  9th  of  March,  and 
its  so  hot.  Bill,  that  if  I  was  a  dog,  my 
tongue  would  be  hanging  out,  and  you 
could  hear  me  pant  clear  across  the 
street. 

132 


A    TENDERFOOT 

Wonder  where  the  fellar  was  lo- 
cated, that  wrote  the  song  called,  "  Lis- 
ten to  the  Nightingale."  He  wouldnt 
had  to  worked  so  hard,  if  he'd  been 
sitting  here  under  this  old  oak  tree 
with  me.  He  would  have  had  to  put 
on  the  brakes,  to  keep  from  writing  too 
many  verses,  for  he  couldnt  have  told 
it  all  in  one  or  two. 

Now,  I'd  kinder  like  to  write  a  song 
called,  "  Listen  to  the  Turtle  Doves," 
for  there  are  twenty  of  'em  in  the 
branches  over  my  head,  holding  a  con- 
cert with  the  same  number  of  mocking 
birds,  and  I'll  bet  my  bottom  dollar,  I 
could  kill  enough  quail — if  I  was  mean 
enough — within  a  hundred  feet  of  me, 
to  be  arrested  for  having  too  many  in 
my  possession. 

These  quail  are  so  tame.  Bill,  they 
133 


A    TENDERFOOT 

seem  more  like  pigeons  out  in  the  barn- 
yard back  home. 

This  aint  no  lie. 

You  know  yourself,  I  aint  been  out 
here  long  enough  to  get  this  everlast- 
ing lying  disease  in  my  system,  and 
I'm  willing  to  sit  on  top  of  a  whole 
Bible  factory  and  say  what  I've  writ- 
ten is  the  truth,  the  whole  truth  and 
nothing  but.  I  may  be  getting  a  little 
daflfy  on  California,  Bill,  but  there  are 
two  things  I  havn't  got  yet — bitten  by 
a  tarantula  or  acclimated. 

From  some  half  baked  farmers  back 
home,  who  came  to  sec  me,  when  they 
heard  I  was  going  "  clear  way  out  to 
Californy,"  I  expected  to  be  dodging 
tarantulas  the  biggest  part  of  the  time. 

One  of  'cm  heard  they  crawled  into 
bed  with  you — another  that  you'd  find 
134 


A   TENDERFOOT 

'em  in  your  boots  in  the  morning  and 
that  if  you  didn't  shake  your  boots  hard 
before  you  put  'em  on  they'd  bite  your 
big  toe  and  you'd  have  to  have  your  toe 
cut  oflF,  or  turn  'em  up  for  good  and 
all. 

The  first  night,  when  the  fleas  got 
after  me,  I  thought  of  old  Slim  Peters, 
and  remembered  he  said  to  take  my 
jack  knife  and  cut  the  toe  off,  just  as 
soon  as  I  felt  the  sting. 

But  when  I  started  to  get  it,  I  re- 
membered again,  I  traded  it  to  an 
Indian  on  the  way  out  to  California 
for  a  string  of  glass  beads  and  that  was 
the  only  thing,  I  guess,  that  saved  my 
toe. 

I  havent  seen  a  tarantula  yet,  Bill, 
hard  as  I've  hunted — only  stuffed  ones 
in  the  stores.     But  I'm  still  hunting, 

I3S 


A   TENDERFOOT 

for  I've  made  up  my  mind  to  find  one 
or  bust,  and  I'll  send  it  home  to  Slim 
Peters,  C.  O.  D.,  when  I  do. 

The  natives  tell  you  it  takes  a  year 
to  get  acclimated — that  means,  Bill, 
getting  the  "  back  East "  out  of  you, 
and  the  "  California  "  into  you.  This 
has  to  happen  to  every  one  that  stays 
here,  just  as  the  mumps  and  the 
measles  are  bound  to  come  to  every 
youngster,  before  he's  been  on  earth 
very  long. 

There  are  so  many  things  to  make 
you  wish  you  was  young  again,  out 
here.  When  I  was  a  young  fellar  and 
took  the  girls  home  from  prayer  meet- 
ings and  quilting  parties,  I  remember 
I  used  to  think  I  was  a  pretty  gay  boy 
with  the  girls  and  I  kinder  "took" 
with  'em,  cutting  out  many  a  "  steady  " 
136 


A   TENDERFOOT 

in  those  days,  and  I  used  to  think  the 
whole  secret  of  it  laid  in  my  carrying 
the  girls  boquets  of  Canterberry  Bells 
and  Sweet  Williams. 

That's  the  only  kind  of  posies  there 
was  in  the  old  garden  at  home,  but 
what  a  wonderful  chance  a  fellar  in 
California  has,  to  court  a  girl! 

Flowers  are  dirt  cheap  everywhere, 
and  Bill,  its  good  for  sore  eyes  to  get 
a  squint  at  the  baskets  of  flowers  you 
can  see  any  day  on  the  street  corners 
of  Los  Angeles. 

Carnations,  all  colors,  for  ten  cents 
a  dozen — think  of  it,  and  this  in  mid- 
winter, when  back  home  you  folks  are 
wading  through  snow  up  to  your  sus- 
pender buttons,  and  blowing  your  stifif 
old  fingers  until  your  wind  gives  out. 

And  they  grow  out  of  doors,  acres 

137 


A    TENDERFOOT 

of  'em,  and  in  the  sweet  pea  fields,  they 
mow  'em  down  for  market  instead  of 
cutting  'em.  Life  is  too  short  to  count 
'em — one — two — three;  there  are  mil- 
lions of  'em  and  violets — you  just  never 
saw  such  a  sight! 

Solid  banks  of  these  purple  blossoms 
are  tucked  into  vacant  spaces,  up 
against  the  buildings,  everywhere 
throughout  the  business  district,  and 
only  five  cents  for  a  generous  bunch, 
while  each  blossom  is  as  big  as  a  quar- 
ter, and  has  a  stem  on  it  a  quarter  of 
a  yard  long. 

You  neednt  snicker.  Bill,  at  what 
I've  just  said,  for  it's  the  truth,  cross 
my  heart.  I  know  what  I  said  about 
the  biggest  liars  coming  from  back 
East,  but  you  know  me.  Bill,  and  you 
know  I've  never  lied  to  you  yet,  except- 
138 


A   TENDERFOOT 

ing  on  that  horse  trade  last  summer. 
These  baskets  of  flowers  on  the  street 
corners  in  the  middle  of  winter,  are 
the  biggest  boost  to  the  Angel  City  it 
could  possibly  have.  They  speak 
louder  to  "  the  stranger  within  the 
gates,"  than  all  the  printed  stuff  the 
Chamber  of  Commerce  could  hand  out 
in  a  year. 

Nothing  but  sunshine  and  balmy  air 
can  bring  forth  such  glorious  flowers 
in  mid-winter,  and  the  stranger  jots 
these  beautiful  sights  down  in  his 
memory,  and  they  live  and  are  talked 
of  for  years  after,  when  about  every- 
thing else  he  saw  in  California,  is  for- 
gotten. And  all  the  children  and 
grandchildren  for  years  to  come  will 
pull  up  to  the  big  fire  place,  heaped 
high  with  blazing  logs — when  the 
139 


A    TENDERFOOT 

blinds  on  the  old  home  back  East,  are 
creaking  and  rattling,  and  the  un- 
latched barn  door  slams  bangs  as  the 
fury  of  a  real  down  east  blizzard 
strikes  it — they'll  all  creep  up,  and 
pulling  their  chairs  a  little  nearer,  sit 
and  listen  and  listen,  never  tiring  of 
hearing  some  member  of  the  family, 
who  once  went  "  way  out  to  Califor- 
nia," tell  the  wonderful  fairy  tales 
(that  are  true)  of  this  land  of  dreams. 


140 


WHAT  KEEPS  THE  POT 
A-BOILING 


OS  ANGELES  is 

the  best  lighted 
city  in  the  world, 
Bill — this  is  pure, 
unadulterated  truth,  every  single 
word  of  it. 
Of  course,  there  are  some  spots 
around  the  edges  of  town  where  you 
have  to  feel  your  way  along  the  fences 
to  be  sure  you're  still  on  the  sidewalk, 
but  if  you're  sober,  you'll  soon  get  to 
know  just  about  how  far  you  are  from 

your  boarding  house  by  the  "  feel  "  of 

141 


A   TENDERFOOT 

each  fence,  and  if  you  aint  sober, 
every  blamed  post  is  a  good  old  friend, 
reaching  out  a  helping  hand  to  you. 
By  gum,  I  named  every  one  of  'em. 
Bill,  and  many's  the  night  I've  stood 
and  talked  an  hour  or  so  with  'em  on 
the  w^ay  home.  I  got  enough  courage 
from  each  one  of  'em  to  brace  up  and 
go  on  to  the  next,  and  before  I  had 
really  talked  all  I  wanted  to,  I  was 
home.  So  you  see.  Bill,  street  lights 
are  mighty  fine  sometimes,  but  there 
are  times  when  the  city  seems  to  be 
wasting  money.  But  Los  Angeles  don't 
count  the  pennies  wasted,  or  the  dol- 
lars either  for  that  matter,  whenever 
she  wants  anything  and  wants  it  bad. 

No  sir-ree. 

A  while  ago  they  figured  out  that 
they  wanted  more  water,  and  they 
142 


A   TENDERFOOT 

wanted  all  they  wanted  of  it,  too;  so, 
at  a  cost  of  $23,000,000,  the  "  Angel 
City  "  has  got  a  water  supply  that  the 
rest  of  the  country  is  "  pop-eyed  "  over. 

And  then  they  woke  up  to  the  fact 
that  their  roads  were  a  little  the  worse 
for  wear — kinder  run  down  at  the  heel 
and  frazzled  out  round  the  edges — so 
they  voted  $3,000,000  worth  of  good 
roads'  bonds,  and  by  so  doing  the  coun- 
try out  here  will  have  two  more  things 
to  swell  up  over.  Only  goes  to  show 
how  "  big  "  they  do  things  in  Southern 
California,  Bill,  and  that's  just  what 
keeps  the  pot  a-boiling  out  here. 

This  town  is  the  first  bidder  at  the 
sale,  and  the  last  bidder  too,  by  gum, 
and  when  any  town  looks  mighty  wise, 
and  kinder  winks  its  eye,  and  thinks 
its  going  to  beat  her  out,  it  ain't  reck- 
143 


A   TENDERFOOT 

oned  with  the  Angel  City  Booster 
Club.  It's  the  biggest  club  on  earth, 
Bill,  for  every  man,  woman  and  child 
that  lives  here  (and  there  are  over 
450,000  of  'em)  is  an  honorary  mem- 
ber. I  joined  the  second  day  I  got 
here,  and  hope  I'll  be  a  director  before 
I'm  much  older. 

Fact. 

Why,  you  know  old  Si  Simpkins 
back  home,  the  fellar  that  run  for  Sen- 
ator, and  didn't  have  any  more  show 
than  a  rabbit;  well,  he  wrote  me  a  let- 
ter the  other  day  and  addressed  it 

Eben  Slocum, 
California, 

Los  Angeles, 
and  asked  me  in  the  letter  what  part  of 
Los  Angeles  California  was  in. 

Speaking   about   street   lights,    Bill, 
144 


A   TENDERFOOT 

there  are  four  or  five  streets  in  the 
Angel  City  that  are  even  more  beauti- 
ful than  "  Little  Nemo  "  ever  dreamed 
about.  Looks  like  the  town  is  dressed 
up  for  company  every  night,  month  in 
and  month  out.  Miles  of  light,  Bill, 
miles  of  it,  and  it  burns  from  dusk  till 
midnight. 

Kinder  makes  you  throw  out  your 
chest  to  know  you're  even  boarding  in 
the  Angel  City,  no  matter  if  your  land- 
lady does  turn  off  the  gas  at  9.30.  She 
don't  run  the  town,  thank  goodness. 
She's  only  a  poor,  weather-beaten 
down-easter,  here  to  make  a  dollar. 
Lots  of  'em  bring  their  little  stingy 
ideas  along  with  'em,  Bill,  but  after 
they've  been  here  a  while,  they  get 
ashamed  of  themselves,  and  let  it  burn 
till  9:45  on  holidays. 
I4S 


A   TENDERFOOT 

California  is  too  big  to  live  in  and 
stay  small — yep,  even  if  you're  broke. 
You've  either  got  to  warm  up  and  hold 
out  a  glad  hand  to  your  fellow  men  or 
quit  the  country.  Ain't  no  place  out 
here  for  little  minds  and  little  souls, 
Bill;  nope,  country's  too  all  fired  big. 

The  other  day  I  cut  loose  from  town, 
and  got  out  into  the  great  open  country 
around  Los  Angeles.  For  months, 
every  morning  when  I  pulled  up  the 
shades  and  looked  out  over  the  house- 
tops at  the  great  wall  of  mountains  that 
guards  this  beautiful  fertile  valley,  I've 
had  a  hankering  to  leave  the  hustle  and 
bustle  of  town,  and  just  go  over  to 
those  old  mountains  and  forget  it 
all. 

Seems  like  they've  been  a-calling  me 

all  these  days — seems  like  I'd  known 

146 


A    TENDERFOOT 

'em  ever  since  I've  known  anything — 
seems  like  they  keep  a-reaching  out  to 
me  like  a  loving  mother  does  to  a  tired 
child,  and  altho'  I  know  I'm  a  long 
ways  from  a  child,  Bill,  there's  many  a 
time  when  a  hungry  feeling  gets  me, 
and  I  honestly  wish  I  was  just  a  tired 
little  kid  once  more,  with  my  old  moth- 
er's arms  wrapped  tight  around  me. 
I'd  make  a  pretty  good  lapful  now,  but 
I'll  wager  she'd  be  glad  to  stand  it,  if 
it  was  only  possible. 

Bill,  don't  you  ever  shame  that  kid 
of  yours  for  crawling  up  in  his  moth- 
er's lap — let  him  crawl  up  there  and 
be  loved  until  he's  so  long-legged  he 
has  to  wrap  his  feet  around  the  rockers 
to  keep  from  interfering.  Don't  you 
ever  shame  him.  Bill — it  will  make  a 
better  man  of  him,  and  he'll  be  a  bet- 
147 


A    TENDERFOOT 

ter  life-partner  for  some  honest  little 
woman,  later  on. 

An  old  mother's  love  can't  hurt  any 
man  on  earth,  Bill,  no  matter  how  old 
he  gets  to  be,  and  when  you  find  the 
kind  of  fellar  that  turns  up  his  nose  at 
the  truest  love  the  Good  Father  ever 
put  in  the  heart  of  a  human,  keep  your 
eye  on  him,  Bill — he'll  bear  watching. 

Well,  by  gum,  some  "  know-it-all  " 
told  me  those  mountains  were  only  a 
stone's  throw  from  Pasadena — only  a 
stone's  throw,  mind  you — just  a  nice 
little  walk  before  breakfast — would 
give  you  a  dandy  appetite,  etc.,  etc., 
but,  thank  goodness,  I  started  out  on 
a  full  stomach,  Bill,  or  I  never  would 
have  been  here  to  tell  the  tale.  I  was 
so  tired  before  I  got  even  half  way 
that  I  hired  a  kid  to  drive  me  up  into 

I4« 


A   TENDERFOOT 

the  foot-hills,  and  when  he  said  "  Go- 
long  "  and  drove  away  and  left  me,  I 
felt  like  a  lost  sheep  a  long  ways  from 
the  feeding  grounds. 

But  I  wasn't  lonesome — nope — 
kinder  felt  like  I  had  father,  mother, 
and  all  my  relations  just  back  of  me, 
up  in  the  canyon;  and  I  shut  my  eyes, 
Bill,  and  dreamed  I  was  just  a  little 
kid  again,  going  fishing,  with  my 
mouth  full  of  worms  for  bait. 

But,  of  course,  we  all  have  to  wake 
up,  and  I  tell  you,  Bill,  there  ain't  no 
use  swelling  up  and  blowing  about 
how  big  you  are  in  this  world.  Ain't 
no  use  of  sticking  your  hands  in  your 
pockets  and  strutting  around  like  a  tur- 
key gobbler,  with  all  the  gold  fillings 
in  your  front  teeth  shined  up  like 
headlights  on  a  behind  time  overland 

M9 


A    TENDERFOOT 

train,  because  it  don't  mean  anything, 
after  all,  Bill.  If  you  could  just  stand 
in  front  of  that  big  rock  pile,  called 
the  Sierra  Madres,  for  a  minute  with 
me,  it  would  surprise  you  how  quick 
you  would  shrivel  up  and  look  like  a 
piece  of  lemon  peel  that  some  poor  fel- 
lar  had  just  slipped  up  on. 

The  longer  I  looked  at  those  moun- 
tains, the  more  I  began  to  realize  what 
a  measly,  miserable,  little  shrimp  I 
was,  anyway. 

Looked  like  I  was  just  about  as  im- 
portant and  necessary  to  keep  this  old 
world  going  round  as  a  little  green 
worm  I  saw  crawling  under  a  leaf; 
and  I  had  a  pretty  good  opinion  of 
myself,  too,  when  I  started  out. 

I  sat  down  and  listened  to  the  birds 
singing  all  around  me,  and.  Bill,  meb- 
iSO 


A   TENDERFOOT 

be  you  don't  think  I  listened  for  rattle- 
snakes, too,  at  the  same  time,  for  Pasa- 
dena was  the  nearest  town,  and  al- 
though they  have  a  "  Red  Cross  "  drug 
store  there,  there  ain't  a  blamed  drop 
of  emergency  medicine  in  stock. 

No  "  first-aid-to-the-injured  "  there, 
Bill. 

Ain't  it  a  shame! 


151 


CATALINA  ISLAND 


ATALINA      Is- 
land ought  to  be 
called  the  "  Island  of  Beautiful 
Dreams." 

"  Catalina  "  dont  do  it  justice. 
But  I  bet  a  cookie  whoever  named  it 
took  their  first  trip  over  to  the  island 
on  a  rough  day,  and  didnt  feel  very 
flowery. 

Catalina  is  an  island  out  at  sea- 
way out — and  between  it  and  the  main- 

IS3 


A    TENDERFOOT 

land,  there  are  more  kinds  of  tides  and 
currents  and  swells,  than  from  here  to 
Europe. 

It  only  takes  two  hours  to  make  you 
feel  that  life  aint  so  much  after  all, 
and  you'd  just  as  soon  quit  now  as  any 
old  time. 

Some  fellar  told  me  not  to  miss  the 
trip,  so  I  took  it,  and  I  didn't  miss 
anything  but  home  and  mother  all  the 
way  over  and  back. 

Oh,  my!  Oh,  my!  Bill,  you've  seen 
how  a  cork  on  the  end  of  a  fishline 
bobs  around  when  a  big  wave  strikes 
it,  aint  you?  Well,  that  tug-boat  I 
went  over  in,  had  a  cork  beaten  to 
death. 

It  acted  more  like  a  bucking  bron- 
cho than  anything  I've  seen  before  or 
since. 

IS4 


A   TENDERFOOT 

It  bucked  sideways,  and  humped  up 
in  the  middle,  and  kicked  from  all  four 
corners  at  the  same  time. 

I  dont  remember  much  about  the 
beautiful  view,  and  I  haven't  much  to 
write  about  the  "  Grand  old  ocean  " 
but  I  can  truthfully  say  I  parted  with 
everything  I  had  eaten  in  the  last  three 
years. 

I  laid  down  and  threw  up,  and  I 
stood  up  and  threw  down,  until  the 
elastic  in  my  suspenders  refused  to 
work  any  longer,  and  I  crawled  under 
a  settee  and  hoped  some  one  would 
take  pity  on  me,  and  knock  me  on  the 
head. 

There  are  times  in  a  man's  life  when 

he  has  had  enough,  and  had  it  rubbed 

in,  too.     I  got  mine  on  that  galloping 

tug-boat,  and  I'll  bet  there  are  some 

iss 


A   TENDERFOOT 

of  those  passengers  I  went  over  with, 
who  are  over  there  yet,  afraid  to  try 
it  again.  They'd  rather  buy  a  lot  and 
build,  than  to  come  back  home. 

I'd  a  been  there  yet  if  I  hadnt  found 
a  feller  with  a  hypodermic  syringe,  and 
gave  him  a  couple  of  dollars  to  make 
me  forget  my  troubles,  and  steer  me 
to  my  room  when  I  landed  in  Los 
Angeles. 

On  the  boat  going  over,  was  a  bride 
and  groom.  The  bride  looked  very 
pretty  as  she  tripped  lightly  down  the 
gang-plank,  and  came  aboard  at  San 
Pedro.  But  when  we  reached  Catalina 
Island,  I  managed  to  pull  the  corner 
of  one  eye  open  long  enough  to  get  my 
bearings,  and  I  saw  the  bride  again — 
all  that  was  left  of  her.  Her  beautiful 
curly  locks  were  sewed  on  a  piece  of 
156 


A   TENDERFOOT 

tape,  and  had  worked  out  from  under 
her  own  thin  hair — her  rats  were 
shifted  until  they  lopped  over  her  right 
ear — she  had  lost  most  of  her  "  dear 
little  puffs,"  in  the  bucket  on  the  boat, 
and  a  little  velvet  bow  was  swinging, 
in  the  breeze,  on  the  end  of  a  few  loose 
hairs.  She  was  white  as  a  sheet,  and 
the  two  rosy  spots  on  her  cheeks — war- 
ranted not  to  fade  when  she  bought  it 
at  the  department  store — made  her  face 
look  like  a  Chinese  lantern. 

The  weak  kneed  groom  half  carried 
her  through  the  crowd  of  gaping  sum- 
mer visitors,  who  line  up  on  both  sides 
of  the  wharf  at  Catalina  just  to  guy  the 
poor  seasick  things  that  crawl  off  the 
boats.  They  guyed  us  all  and  had  all 
the  fun  they  wanted  to,  with  uS' — none 
of  us  cared,  by  gum,  if  they'd  sicked  a 
157 


A    TENDERFOOT 

dog  on  us.  One  fellar  hollered  at  me, 
"  Hey,  fatty,  go  back  and  get  your 
hat,"  but  as  I  had  used  my  hat  when 
I  was  in  a  hurry,  before  I  could  find 
one  of  those  blamed  buckets,  I  didnt 
stop  to  answer  back. 


is8 


HOMESICK 


ALIFORNIA  is 
called  the  land 
of  flowers,  and  the  first  fellar 
that  called  it  so,  was  no  liar. 
He  must  have  been  a  native 
— a  truthful  man,  and  likewise  a 
"  Booster."  You  never  heard  a  na- 
tive knock  California — no — sir — ree. 
They're  always  a  boosting,  and  crow- 
ing, and  swelling  out  like  pouter  pig- 
eons, as  soon  as  they  begin  to  see  us 
sit  up  and  take  notice. 
159 


A    TENDERFOOT 

Huh  I  dont  they  love  to  see  our  eyes 
stick  out,  and  our  mouths  come  open, 
while  we  gap  at  some  of  the  glories  of 
California — the  land  of  sunshine — the 
land  of  gold. 

And  when  we  get  homesick  and  say 
"  Good  bye,  we're  going  home,"  they 
only  laugh  at  us — and  Bill,  its  a  kinder 
mean  laugh,  too — and  they'll  say  "  Oh, 
you'll  come  back,  they  all  do.  I'll  give 
you  just  six  months  at  the  most,  and 
I'll  bet  you'll  come  back  with  all  your 
relations,  and  stay  next  time  for  good." 

So  they  slap  you  on  the  back,  and 
give  you  a  mighty  warm  handshake 
and  say, 

"  Good  by,  pardner,  tell  all  the  good 

folks  back  there  to  come  out  to  God's 

country,    and   be   glad   they're    living. 

Tell  'em  they've  only  got  one  life  to 

i6o 


A   TENDERFOOT 

live,  and  they're  going  through  for  the 
last  time.  Tell  'em  if  the  Pilgrim 
Fathers  had  landed  on  the  Pacific  coast 
instead  of  the  Atlantic,  little  old  New 
York  wouldn't  be  on  the  map." 

And  I'll  be  hanged,  Bill,  before  you 
know  it,  you're  so  darned  homesick 
you'd  give  your  old  trunk  if  you  hadnt 
bought  your  ticket  East. 

You  dont  want  to  go  home — you 
want  to  stay/ 

And  when  the  train  pulls  out  for 
back  east,  and  you're  on  it,  b'gosh^ 
there's  something  inside  of  you  that  be- 
gins to  swell  up  like  a  sponge,  as  you 
look  out  of  the  car  window  and  see  the 
flowers  and  orange  groves  slipping  by. 

You  are  only  beginning  to  realize 
you  are  leaving  it  all,  and  may  never 
come  back  again. 

i6i 


A    TENDERFOOT 

Sure,  Bill,  a  man's  a  fool  to  cry,  but 
I'd  'a  dropped  a  few  tears  if  I  hadn't 
blown  'em  out  through  my  nose. 

And  let  me  add,  Bill,  as  I  am  taking 
one  last  look  out  of  the  car  window,  at 
the  fast  disappearing,  familiar  sights 
I  have  learned  to  love,  like  a  native 
born — let  me  add,  God  never  fashioned 
another  such  wondrous  spot,  on  the  en- 
tire surface  of  this  old  earth. 

There  is  only  one  real  land  of  sun- 
shine and  its  out  here  where  the  sun 
goes  down. 


THE  END. 


162 


iiini!ii!iiiiiiiiin;ih! 


iiif)! 


